False Memories
by Shazam00
Summary: AU: "Your child carries great power," the witch cackled, "And that power, will be this realm's undoing." The mother of the child looked at her baby girl, and thought about the woman's words. The man stared at his wife, and then looked at his beautiful daughter. The mother shook her head and pulled her husband and her child away from the monstrous woman, up the stairs.
1. Chapter 1

False Memories

**Enchanted Forest… 28 years ago **(Intro)

"Push Snow! I know you can do it!" the man shouts. The woman lying on the bed looks up into the eyes of the man she loves with all her heart, and gives a final push. There is a cry of pain, and then a different cry. This cry is one of freshness, of hope, of the possibility of a family, the family she always wanted.

"David," she whispers, holding her new daughter close. "We can't give her up.

"I know," he replies softly, his eyes shining with love as he looks at his baby girl. "We'll find a way," he says, with a look of grim determination on his face.

"We always do," the woman says, looking up at her husband. With a chuckle, she finds that the man is already lost in their baby daughter's eyes. He's wrapped around her little finger, and with a tired grin, she realizes that she is too. They fall asleep side by side, with the baby in between them. The couple was too tired to notice the subtle glow of the baby's already emerald green eyes, or the pulsing energy that flowed beneath her skin. Right now though, it didn't matter. All that mattered was them, and their little family.

**Eight days later…**

The door to the cell clanged shut, and the couple stared at the woman behind the enchanted bars of metal. The husband saw a monster, one who had tried to destroy his family, his kingdom, everything he held dear. The wife saw a lost woman, one who had done nothing to deserve the pain she had endured. A woman that she had once called mother. The baby cradled in the husband's arm looked at the woman behind the wall of magic and saw nothing but a woman who glowed dark purple, and thought nothing of it. She nestled into her father's arms and fell into a deep sleep.

"Your child carries great power," the witch cackled, "And that power, will be this realm's undoing." The mother of the child looked at her baby girl, and thought about the woman's words. The man stared at his wife, and then looked at his beautiful daughter. The mother shook her head and pulled her husband and her child away from the monstrous woman, up the stairs. She shut the heavy door behind them, and barred it shut.

"I will not have my daughter know of her existence," she announced to no one in particular, though everybody was paying attention. "Guards will be posted at this door at all times, and no one but I or David goes down, understood?"

"Yes Queen Snow!" the guards said in union. The queen took her daughter from her husband and started walking to their shared chambers. David hurried after her, and asked a little breathlessly, "What shall we name her?"

"Emma," Snow White replied to her prince charming, "Emma Ruth Swan."

(Chapter One)

**The First Year**

Snow sat at her desk with her little daughter placed next to her on the floor sound asleep, or so she thought. Only a year old and Princess Emma was already a trouble maker.

"She takes after her father," Snow often thought. She looked down fondly at her child only to find herself staring at an empty blanket.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Snow cried, jumping up from her chair and looking around frantically. One of the guards hears her shouts from down the hall and runs to her aid.

"What is it Milady?" he asks, looking around for signs of trouble, his hand at the hilt of his sword. The queen just gestures to the white and purple blanket by the desk, and the man relaxes. He watches the queen throw open the closet doors, look under her husband's desk, and even under the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

"Milady, it looks as if the Princess has made her way downstairs," the guard states cautiously.

"I think you're right Graham," Snow sighs. "Let's go find her."

"Shall we?" Graham asks, offering the seated queen his hand. She grabs it, and he helps her off of the ground. Together, they carefully make their way out of the room, avoiding the various items Snow White had strewn all over the floor in her search for the princess. They descend the stairs and continue looking for Emma.

Out in the gardens, King David is practicing sword fighting. He parries and thrusts against his opponent, and skillfully blocks the offensive attacks. Very suddenly, a stuffed horse appears right where he's about to step. The king tries to avoid it, but to no avail. He crashes to the ground. He's had the wind knocked out of him, but other than that, he has no injuries, except for maybe his pride. He pries his face up off the ground and rolls over, coming face to face with his mischievous one year old daughter, hiding underneath a Japanese maple tree, which had been a marriage gift that his best friend Mulan had procured during her travels.

"Is this yours?" he asks, holding the horse in one hand, his daughter in the other, with a face that can only be described as, trying to look mad and failing miserably on. The girl shakes her head, her curly golden locks shining in the sunlight as she grins at her father.

"It is isn't it!" he says, feigning shock. "Wait till your mother hears about this!" he cries. Right on cue, Snow briskly walks into the garden, wearing the same expression David had on just a moment ago.

"There you are!" she laughs. "She just crawled right out from under my nose David!"

"Who does that remind you of?" he asks with a sly glint in his eye.

"Oh no one in particular," she replies, giving both her husband, and her daughter a bop on the nose. "Come on, Emma let's go get some lunch," Snow says. David hands his beautiful wife his beautiful daughter and watches them go.

"She takes after her mother," he thinks, a smile etched onto his features. The king is too busy watching his family to notice the stuffed horse, lying forgotten on the ground, shimmer and then disappear altogether.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Second Year**

"Milady!" Graham called in a hurried voice. "Sire, come quickly! It's finally happening!" The king and queen come running from the dining hall as quickly as their feet can carry them, as Princess Emma hoists herself up using the corner of the table.

"I was worried she'd never be able to do it!" Snow cried happily, hanging on her husband's arm.

"I always knew she'd walk when she was ready," David said, his eyes never leaving his daughter. "I didn't doubt her for a second." The proud parents looked on as their daughter took a shaky step towards them. She laughed gleefully and took another step, before she lost her balance and fell down. David walked towards his daughter with his arms outstretched, but Snow held him back.

"Wait," she whispered. They looked on as their daughter struggled to get back on her feet. With nothing to pull herself up with, Emma was having quite the time. Finally, the toddler sighed, and looked towards the table. The table started sliding across the floor towards the tiny princess, who giggled and stuck out her hand. The shocked monarchs could only watch as the table came to a stop just within reach of their child, who proceeded to use it to lift herself up off of the ground. The child continued walking towards her wide eyed parents, and she did not fall again.

**That Evening**

Snow White hurried down the stairs to the cell that held the most feared monster in the kingdom. She looked through the bars at the woman who had almost ruined her life, with a scowl on her face.

"Regina!" the queen shouted, "What did you do?" The woman looked up at the young mother standing before her.

"Why Snow, I did nothing. How could I, imprisoned here like I am?" she replied with a snarl on her face

"Don't play dumb with me Regina. You know exactly what I'm talking about. What did you do to my daughter?" Snow White shouted angrily.

"I did nothing to your daughter," Regina replied. "Whatever you are talking about, your daughter did it all on your own." The Evil Queen laughed as an extremely aggravated Snow White walked away with more questions than answers.

As Snow White and David lay together in bed that night, all they could think about was that night, two years ago, when they had put the Evil Queen away for good. The words she said tormented them as they tried to sleep. Finally, David whispered, " We're going to have a much harder time keeping track of her now that she can walk aren't we." Snow chuckled lightly and replied, "I think that's a worry for another day." She leaned over and kissed her husband's cheek before finally nodding off to sleep.

David sighed contently, listening to the steady breathing of his wife next to him. He gently unlatched her arms from around him, and put his feet on the floor. He stretched his back, and got up, treading lightly so he didn't wake his sleeping wife. He made his way to Emma's room, and opened the door carefully. He looked at his daughter's sleeping form and took a deep breath.

"I know in my heart, that you Emma Ruth Swan, are destined for great things. No matter what Regina says, no matter what anybody says, you won't be our kingdom's undoing, you'll be our salvation." He whispered into the night. He watched as a shining white butterfly flew in the open window landed on his daughter's bed frame. He had a feeling, that it was there for a reason, and didn't bother shooing it away.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Third Year**

"But Snow, I thought we wanted to give her a chance to find love!" David shouted at his wife. "That's always been our dream for her!"

"It's just a betrothal David, and the engagement will be a long one," Snow replied warily.

"But if we break our agreement with the Dark Kingdom, we could start a war! This will be a war that we cannot win. Do you really want that? Do you really want to face the possibility of our sweet, sweet Emma marrying the son of the Dark One?" David yelled angrily.

"No David I don't! I want Emma to find true love like we did, but I also want our kingdom to be one of peace!" Snow responded just as angrily.

"Then why can't you see that this is a mistake!" David said. "If we sign this, Emma is betrothed to the Dark One's son, Prince Baelfire. The engagement starts on her sixteenth birthday and ends on her twentieth. If Emma does find her true love during this time period, then we could end up starting an unwinnable war. We will lose our kingdom, and our daughter in the process! It's better if we just say no!"

Snow White looked up into the eyes of her husband and sighed miserably.

"David, we can't," she said sadly

"And why not?" David snarled. "Wait, what aren't you telling me?" he asked, his face softening.

"I- I'm with child," Snow whispered. David's eyes widened.

"Snow, that's, that's great!" David answered. "But, what does that have to do with Emma's marriage?"

"Everything," Snow uttered.

"I don't understand," David whispered.

"King Rumplestitleskin threatened the baby, "Snow sobbed. "He threatened the baby, and all our future children," she cried. Her shoulders shook, and she took a deep breath, leaning into her husband. "The man has the gift of prophecy," she said. She looked at her husband, her eyes shining. "We are supposed to have two other children after this one," she said, her hand running across her still flat tummy. "And he threatened to take every last one, if we don't marry Emma off to his son."

David took a deep breath, trying to stay strong for the sake of his wife.

"It'll be okay Snow," he crooned. "Everything will be okay. We can do this. We are strong, and Emma is even stronger. We will be okay."

"Daddy, why is Mommy cwying?" a young voice asked. The couple looked up to see their young daughter in the door way. David released his wife and went to his baby girl, picking her up and escorting her to her room.

"Nothing is wrong with your mommy Emma," David lied. "You should go back to sleep."

"Okay Daddy," Emma yawned and rested her head on the King's shoulder. David walked into her room and lay her down on the bed. He tore his eyes away from the slumbering form of his daughter only to find the shining white butterfly fluttering around the room.

"I don't know who or what you are," David said to the bug, "But I get the feeling that you and I have the same goal in life. We want to protect this girl here. As much as I try, I can't do it alone. Are you with me?"

In response, the butterfly settled on the young Princess' head.

"Thank you," David whispers. He silently walks back to the chambers that he shares with Snow White, and together, they read over the marriage agreement, and sign their daughter's life away.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Fourth Year**

Princess Emma prances through the palace gardens, a young boy of six years old trailing behind her.

"You can't catch me Bae!" she shouts gleefully, zig zagging through the trees. The boy laughs and almost trips over a tree root that seems to appear out of nowhere in front of him. "Watch me!" he shouts, with a big grin on his face. With a sudden burst of speed, the boy gains on Emma. He tackles her and they both fall to the ground with a thud. Laughing so hard her side hurts, Emma rolls onto her back.

"Baelfire" she laughs, "You ruined my dress!"

"You ruined your dress earlier today," he says, grinning. "I just finished the job." At that, Baelfire receives a harrumph from Emma who is sitting with her back turned towards him.

"Ah Ems, don't be mad," Baelfire pouted, reaching over to put his hand on her shoulder. "It was all in good fun." Without warning, Prince Baelfire is lying on his back in the dirt, with a princess in a dirty, torn dress standing over him triumphantly.

"You're right Bae it is!" Emma shouts as she runs back towards her parents' castle. Prince Baelfire props himself up on his elbows as he watches his friend run away.

"I will not have my son marry some, some heathen!" Rumplestitleskin shouts. "Teach the girl some manners or your kingdom, and your family will no longer be protected!" With that the Dark One leaves, taking his son, and his son's torn jacket with him. Before he's pulled into his father's carriage, Baelfire turns around and offered Emma a smile.

"Who knew the Dark One would be upset about some ruined clothes," Snow White sighed. She looked down at her daughter, who sniffled, trying to hide her tears.

"Oh Emma don't cry," Snow said to the princess. "Next time Baelfire visits, you'll just have to be more careful that's all."

"Baelfire told me, that there won't be a next time, for a long time Mama!" Emma cried. "He's not coming back until I can marry him!"

"Oh honey," Snow said soothingly, bending down to hold her daughter close. "We'll make do I promise. You can write letters, and send him pretty things that you get when you travel with Daddy okay?"

"Okay Mama," Emma sniffled and grabbed her mother's hand. Together, they walked through the garden and into the castle, to write Emma's first letter to her new friend Prince Baelfire.

**Later That Evening**

"No Neal not like that, I can't even tell what that is!" Emma said. "A horse has four legs, not three, and it only has two eyes!" Emma held up her picture of a horse to show her baby brother. "Why don't we try something easier, like a beanstalk?"

"Honey, your brother isn't even a year old. He doesn't know what a beanstalk is!" David chuckled, watching his children play at the foot of their parent's bed.

"Yes he does!" Emma cried. "I told him!"

"Honey he's a baby, he can't understand you." Snow said sternly.

"Yes he does Mama, watch!" The royal couple could only watch as their eldest child placed her hand on her younger brother's head. The baby's gargling laughter stopped for a moment, but resumed as soon as Emma removed her hand.

"Emma…" David started.

"Wait Daddy! Watch!" Emma shouted. The small family did just that as baby Neal crawled towards the paper. With what can only be described as a light touch, he dipped a brush into the green paint and set to work, drawing what more than resembled a beanstalk, right out of one of Emma's storybooks.

"Oh my…" Snow breathed. Baby Neal crawled over to his big sister, and wrapped his little hand around two of her fingers.

"Mama, Daddy, Neal's tired. He wants to go to bed." Princess Emma said, snapping her parents out of their trance.

"It is getting late," Snow yawned.

"I think it's time all of us hit the hay," David said. The young parents tucked their children into bed, and then settled in for the night themselves, the day's events swirling like tornadoes through their tired minds.

**Somewhere at Sea**

A young boy of fourteen years old settled into the hammock, in the cabin boy's quarters. His little brother, just seven lay next to him, nestled against his body. Bruises and lashes covered the younger boy's body, making it apparent that he had taken a beating, quite recently, from a whip of some sort, maybe a Cat O' Nine Tails. The older brother had one lash across his face, from where he had jumped in front of the weapon, to get the captain to stop the torture.

"He's just a child!" he had shouted. "If you're going to whip anyone, whip me!" The captain hadn't whipped him, but he'd kicked him in the stomach, over and over, cursing him, telling him to keep a better eye on his brother, or else they'd both be cut into pieces and fed to the sharks. The poor boy had done his duty as older brother and taken the beating, and carried the unconscious form of the only family he had left, back to their shared cabin, cleaned him up, and put him to bed. He looked out the small window of the cabin, hoping, praying for a miracle, or something, to get them off of this living hell called a ship. He knew it was useless though. He looked down at his younger brother lovingly, and sighed.

"Oh Killian, what in God's name are we going to do." With those words, the boy drifted off to sleep, mentally preparing himself for the morning, when he would have to do it all again.

"Captain, we need to make port soon, "the first mate said. "We are running low on rations, and the crew is getting antsy." The captain sighed, but nodded his head warily. "Set course for the Enchanted Forest," he replied.

Somewhere on the deck of that ship, a shining white butterfly fluttered it's wings, and flew off into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**One Week Later: In the Docks of the Enchanted Forest**

"Boy!" the Captain shouts.

"Yes Sir!" Liam Jones says, saluting the man, who only days earlier, had beaten his brother, and him to a pulp.

"Drag that little gnat you call a brother up here, will you?" the captain snarls.

"Sir yes sir!" Liam replies cautiously. He hurries below deck to wake up his sleeping brother.

"Killian," Liam whispers, gently shaking his brother. "Killian the captain wants to see us." Killian groans miserably.

"Ow Liam that hurts," Killian whines. Liam rolls his brother over, and looks at him carefully.

"Shit," Liam breathes surveying the damage. Killian's injuries are much worse than they appeared last night. One of his eyes is swollen shut, and his right leg is bent at an unnatural angle. His right arm hangs uselessly against his side, his shoulder is probably dislocated. "Shit, shit, shit," Liam repeats again.

"Is it bad?" Killian asks quietly.

"Not at all brother," Liam lies. "Come on, we have to go see the captain." Liam helps Killian out of bed. The younger boy leans heavily on his older brother, and together, they make their way up the stairs, to the captain, who is growing steadily more agitated waiting for them.

"Hurry up you cretins!" the captain shouts, twirling the studded rings on his fingers. The boys slowly walk towards the evil man, Killian's surely broken leg dragging on the deck all the way. They come to a stop in front of the captain, looking up at his twisted face.

"What the hell is wrong with you boy?" the captain growled, addressing Killian. "Can't take a little beating?" The young boy glared at the man, his eyes burning with hatred. Killian slowly withdrew his arm from around his brother's shoulder, and placed his bad leg on the deck. He stood as straight as he could, and faced down the malicious smirk of the man who inflicted this terrible pain upon him.

"I'm alright sir," Killian said innocently. Liam watched as the captain's face grew red, and looked at his brother proudly, then back to the captain, who's face was steadily growing redder. The man seemed to calm himself down, before smiling evilly.

"Oh is that so?" he asked slyly. Liam glanced at his brother, warning him silently. Killian ignored him.

"Yes sir," Killian replied. The captain's smile grew even bigger, before he punched the boy in the stomach, his many rings making the impact that much worse. Liam lunges forward.

"Stop! Captain stop!" Liam shouts at the top of his lungs.

"Hold him back boys!" the captain yells. "Let me teach this little bastard a lesson!"

"No! Stop captain! Please! Have mercy on him, he's just a boy!" Liam cries, sobbing now, struggling to get free of the burly crew men that are holding him back. But it's no use. Liam is forced to watch as the captain hits Killian, again and again, until he falls to the deck. Then the captain is kicking him over, and over. The younger boy curls up into a ball, trying to protect himself, but the captain, just kicks harder. Killian's blood coats the deck, and the captain's boots are covered in it, before he stops, finally. The crewmen release Liam, and he runs to his brother's side, kneeling on the deck, in a pool of Killian's blood. He looks up at the captain, his eyes glittering with tears.

"You- you monster," he whispers. The captain hits Liam across the face, and then kicks him in the stomach.

"Get the hell off my ship, boy," the captain barks, before striding away, down the gang plank, the crew following close behind him. Liam scoops up his brother, and limps down the gangplank, turning the opposite way the captain and the crew went.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"David, I feel like we need some time away from the children," Snow starts to say.

"Say no more my love," David replies dramatically. "I was just going to suggest day down at the harbor.

"Well I was thinking something a little closer to home," Snow says with a wink. David grins at her.

"Don't you worry, I've got it all planned out. We'll spend the first part of the day at the harbor, and the afternoon will be spent on… more enjoyable activities," David says, with a mischievous smirk. Snow smiles and pulls her husband in for a kiss.

"We could always start a little early," Snow says slyly, looking up at her husband through her eye lashes. He chuckles, and they fall into bed together.

"I'm rather tired darling, let's save it for tomorrow," David says. With an exasperated sigh, Snow releases her grip on her husband, but snuggles close against him.

"Okay, tomorrow it is," she says.

DSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

**The Next Day**

The royal couple leaves the castle at dawn, riding their horses down the path, and through the village. The whole ride, Snow White was plagued with worry for her children, and by an extent, so was everybody else.

"What if there's an attack," Snow asked suddenly, right when they left the castle.

"There won't be an attack Snow," David replied

"But what if there is?" Snow persisted.

"Emma is with Graham working on her swordsmanship, and Neal is being taken care of by Johanna," David said. "They're in good hands."

"Okay," Snow said. "But what if there's an accident?"

"Snow!" David says sternly, "The children will be fine. This is a day for us, so put the children out of your mind, and focus on having fun okay?"

"Alright David, I'm sorry," Snow replied.

"It's okay honey, it's normal," David stated. They rode the remainder of the ride with little more than pleasant chit-chat. When they reached the village, David halted his horse.

"Excuse me guards," David started. "I would like for my wife and to continue the rest of the journey on foot. If we could have only minimal security walking with us, it would be much appreciated." Four guards dismount from their horses and continue with the monarchs, placing themselves strategically around the couple, to offer the most protection possible. The couple walks hand in hand through the village and down the path to the harbor.

"The ocean is beautiful isn't it," Snow said, finally breaking the silence.

"It really is," David responded, glancing at his wife. "But it isn't the most beautiful thing here."

"I love you David," Snow said, hugging her husband, and looking out over the water. "Wait, do you, do you hear something?" Snow asked. David and Snow paused their conversation and listened closely to the noises around them. Among the sound of the waves hitting the shore, and the gulls calling one another, a more pitiful sound could be heard. It was the sound, of a child crying.

"Hello?" Snow called. The sobbing only intensified. "David we have to find them, whoever it is," Snow said with a worried tone.

"I know, I know," David said. "Shh, shh listen closely." They were silent again as they surveyed the area. David caught sight of something familiar.

"There Snow, look," David said, pointing at the shimmering white butterfly. Snow looked.

"David, it's just a butterfly," she replied, slightly puzzled.

"It's not just any butterfly," he answered. "Follow it." That they did. The butterfly flew along the water line for a yard or two, before turning down an alley way. The couple followed, as did the guards, with their swords drawn. They followed the butterfly, over barrels, and under various hanging items, until the butterfly landed on an overturned crate. Snow called the guards to a stop, as David scrambled to the crate. The sobbing was almost deafening now. He lifted the crate, only to find not one child, but two.

"Guards! Snow! There are two of them! One's in really bad shape!" David called. Snow quickly came forward, followed closely by the guards.

"Please," the older boy cried. "You have to help him."

"It's alright now, we are here to help you," Snow crooned

"You have to help Killian first!" the boy suddenly shouted. "Please," he said, his voice softer now, "He's dying."

"Send someone to ride ahead to the castle," David shouted. "Have them get the best medic!" At that, one guard disappeared, out into the sun.

"We are going to get both of you out of here, I promise," Snow said softly.

**At the Castle**

"Graham!" someone shouted. "Max and Ryan rode back ahead of the royal party! They say that the King and Queen are coming back now, and are calling for the best medic!"

"Well then what are you waiting for?" Graham shouted right back. "Go and find the bloody man!"

"Graham," Princess Emma asked, "Is something wrong with Mommy and Daddy?" Graham looked at the girl and said the only thing that came to mind.

"I hope not Princess." The guard grabbed the girl and ran as fast as he could to the castle gates.


	6. Chapter 6

**On The Way to the Castle**

"What's your name?" Snow White yells to the older boy, over the thundering of the horse's hooves.

"Liam," the boy says nervously. "Liam Jones."

"Well Liam, I'm Queen Snow White of the Enchanted Forest. It is a pleasure to meet you. The man carrying your friend is my husband King David." She replied

"He's not my friend, he's my brother," Liam shouts back. "Did you say, qu- queen, and k-king?" he stutters, his confidence faltering in the presence of what seems to be royalty. Snow White chuckles a little nervously, looking between the dying boy and the older one. How did she not see it? Of course they were brothers. And Jones, where had she heard that name before? She would ask David about it once they got the boys back to the castle.

"Yes honey and we are going to take care of you okay?" she said reassuringly. Just as Liam was starting to feel a little more relaxed, King David shouted something unintelligible, and started to urge his horse faster towards the castle. Everybody in the royal party followed suit, and they reached the gates just as the castle staff was getting around to opening them. The courtyard was a bustle of activity, people were shouting, and guards were rushing around, preparing for the worst.

"Mama, Daddy!" Princess Emma yelled, breaking free of Graham's arms, and running to her parents. "Who's that?" she asked curiously.

"Not right now sweetheart," David replied quickly, looking around for the medic.

"Your highnesses, are you alright?" Graham shouted, sprinting over to the family.

"We are, this boy isn't!" David shouted. "Where in God's name is that medic?"

"Sir, the medic is off with his family," Graham stated matter of factly, a bit confused as to who the young boys were.

"Well someone should go get him!" Snow White cried, with her eyes wide, wrapping one hand protectively around Liam, the other around her daughter. David winced as she said this.

"It'll be too late," he said quietly.

"NO!" Liam shouted. "It can't be too late! You promised me! You promised that you would help us!" he screamed, beating his fists against Snow's chest weakly. With all the strength he could muster, he broke out of her grasp, and ran to his brother. "Please Killian, hold on. Please," he cried, his tears falling on his brother's face. Emma was crying too now, even if she didn't know who these boys were. She felt a strange kinship to them. She was drawn to the young one, like a magnet. She slowly walked over to the brothers, and tapped Liam on the shoulder. He turned glaring at her.

"Go away," he whispered. She shook her head stubbornly.

"I can help," she whispered back. She looked over her shoulder to see her parents engaged in an animated, almost angry conversation with Graham. She caught only bits and pieces, like _the medic_, _hopeless, _and _burial. _She looked back at the brothers with renewed determination.

"Please, let me try," she said pleadingly. Liam nodded and shifted so he was holding his brother's head in his lap. _The girl can't be any older than Killian, but if she wants to try, then I won't stop her_, he thought miserably. The poor boy watched as Princess Emma placed her little hands on his dying brother's chest and closed her eyes. At first nothing happened, but the little girl only furrowed her brow, and took a deep breath, her concentration never waning. Slowly, but surely, her hands started to glow, as did Killian's whole body. Silence fell across the courtyard, and they all watched, mystified. A little color returned to Killian's face, so that he no longer looked like death itself was waiting for him. His breathing became deeper. Whatever the princess was doing, it was working.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

He felt light, like air. All around him, there was blackness, and it consumed him. He hung there, scared, but curious at the same time. Suddenly, a ghostly figure appeared. His jawline was dotted with stubble, and he was dressed in all black leather. His hair was artfully styled, making it look almost like he had just gotten out of bed. His eyes were a piercing blue, and he had a hook for a hand.

"Wh- who are you?" Killian asked the strange apparition. The man looked down at himself, a smile growing on his face.

"I'm death boy, and I think you have a decision to make," the figure, replied, in an accent so similar to Killian's own, it made him shiver.

"Why do you look so familiar," the boy asked, gaining confidence in his new surroundings. Death looked down at himself again.

"Well boy, I'm appearing to you as one of your future selves," he stated. Killian's eyes grew wide.

"One of them?" he asked.

"The future isn't always certain," Death replied. "But I think I like this one the best." Killian shrugged his shoulders, looking Death over.

"You said I had a decision to make," the boy stated.

"Ah yes. Do you want to stay, or do you want to go?" Death giggled. Killian was sick to his stomach.

"I have to choose?" he wondered aloud.

"Yes lad. With a prominent destiny such as yours, it's only fair that you get a say in the matter isn't it?" Death replied impatiently. "Hurry up, I have people waiting for me."

"A prominent destiny," Killian mused. "What can you tell me?"

"Not much lad, only this," Death responded, his eyes darkening.

_Two people, from different vines_

_Cross paths, their destinies intertwined_

_One, a girl, born of true love_

_A boy born at sea, his heart from thereof_

_A wandering soul_

_And a brave one_

_Destined to be together_

_But forever apart_

_Separated by tragedy,_

_Though they are two parts of the same heart._

_The fates continue to try to unite them_

_But forces unknown, continue to fight_

_It is inevitable._

_But the book, never lies._

_If they succeed, the boy will be the girl's protector, she the realm's salvation._

_If they fail, the forever couple, will be the realm's undoing._

_And then the cycle will start again._

Killian took a deep breath.

"I see you've made your choice," Death said with a grin, his eyes returning to normal. "I must take my leave boy; it seems that you are waking up." Death's form shimmered, and smirked at the very confused child. "Oh and Killian, you won't remember any details of this encounter." Killian opened his mouth to protest, but the scene in front of him faded, and he took a deep breath of fresh air. He opened his eyes cautiously, coming face to face with the tired eyes, of a triumphant looking blonde girl. His deep blue eyes looked into her emerald green ones, his mind swimming. But the blissfulness of unconsciousness called to him, and just as the girl collapsed on top of him, too exhausted from the ordeal to stay awake, he collapsed, his body aching, his mind tired, but strangely content. Together the boy and the girl fell into unconsciousness, and off in the distance, the shimmering white butterfly fluttered its wings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Later that Evening**

After seeing to it that Liam had a room for the night, setting both Princess Emma and Killian up in the infirmary, and putting baby Neal to bed, Snow and David retired to their room for the evening.

"Snow, what the hell happened today?" David asked his wife.

"I wish I knew David, I wish I knew," Snow responded warily. David looked over at his wife and sighed. She returned the sentiment.

"Ya know," Snow started mischievously. "We never did get to those more enjoyable activities." David raises his eyebrows at this statement.

"Makes me wish I hadn't turned you down yesterday," he says a little breathlessly. Snow rolls over on top of her husband, straddling him.

"Speaking of which, why did you turn me down?" Snow asks curiously. "What am I not, satisfying you?" she asks with a smirk, punctuating each syllable with a roll of her hips. David bites his lips and looks up at his wife.

"Darling, I just wanted to make today a very special day," he says, barely containing his groans.

"Well my amazing husband, special it will be," Snow chuckles. And with that, the couple sheds their clothing, and he enters her. Snow and David come together in more ways than one that evening, before collapsing on their bed, his arms wrapped around her body, their hearts beating in sync, more in love than ever.

**In the Infirmary**

It was after midnight when Killian awoke, plagued by gruesome nightmares of his almost death. Gasping for breath, he tried to calm himself down, but the unfamiliar surroundings only worsened the panic. Tears rolling down his cheeks, he looked around for Liam, for anyone, but his eyes only found the blonde girl. She was awake too, and she was staring at him, her green eyes piercing through the darkness. The girl rolled out of bed, placing her feet lightly on the floor. Slowly she walked over to him, taking his hand in hers.

"No one is going to hurt you here," she whispered.

"Who are you?" Killian whispered back, his breathing slowing down slightly.

"I'm Emma," the green eyed girl responded. Killian's breathing slowed down to almost normal as Emma climbed into bed right beside him, her hand never leaving his.

KEKEKEKEKEKEK

Liam snuck into the infirmary in the early morning hours, worried about his brother, and maybe even the little girl who saved his brother's life, though he wouldn't admit to it. He was greeted with the sight of his brother and the princess sharing Killian's bed, holding hands, her head resting on his shoulder, both fast asleep, oblivious to the world around him. Liam smirked.

"My brother, ever the womanizer," Liam sighed. He climbed into the princess' empty bed, wanting to be there when they awoke in the morning.

KJLJKJLJKJLJKJLJKJLJKJLJKJLJKJLJKJ

Snow awoke to the sun shining into the dark room. She pulled on a nightgown and threw open the curtains, only to find the sun high in the sky. She gasped.

"David, David wake up, we overslept!" she jumped on the bed and started shaking her husband. She put her face close to his. "Oh Daaaaaavvviiiiiiddd…" As sudden as an alligator attack, David grabbed his wife, pulling her down on top of him, laughing gleefully.

"Muahaha the Queen is mine!" David shouted.

"David stop!" Snow giggled. "We have to get up. The ball for Neal's birthday is tomorrow and I believe we have some things to deal with today. Namely the Jones brothers."

"Agh you're right," David groaned, releasing the Queen reluctantly. The couple dressed, grabbed their young son, and headed down to the infirmary.

"Why does the surname Jones sound familiar?" Snow asked her husband on the long walk, rocking her son against her chest.

"Jones is a very common surname Snow," David responded nonchalantly.

"Yes I know, but Liam and Killian aren't common first names," Snow shot back. "Didn't, what was his name, Collin! Didn't Prince Collin have kids?"

"The long lost Prince Collin? Prince Collin of the Martime Kingdom? He had kids, but they were lost with him when his ship went down," David replied skeptically. "But that was three years before Emma was born, you don't think they survived for seven years on their own, on a pirate ship do you? The younger one would've just been a baby!" David and Snow White reached the door to the infirmary, and peaked in.

Liam was awake, sitting on Emma's abandoned bed, staring out the window in awe at the gardens below him. Their daughter had her tiny arm draped over the battered torso of the younger boy, and was still holding his hand. Her head was resting on Killian's shoulder, and they were both fast asleep. Snow chuckled and David couldn't help the ghost of the smile that danced across his face. Liam's head whipped towards the noise. He smiled as well.

"That's how I found them when I came in earlier," he said with a laugh. "I think Killian may have had a panic attack, and your daughter helped him out a little bit. He's had them for as long as I can remember." Snow stepped forward towards the boy, leaving David alone in the doorway.

"Liam," she started to say. "What happened to you two? How did you end up in the alleyway?" Liam sighed, and it was a sigh full of emotion, a gut wrenching sound.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before you asked, I just didn't think it would be so soon." Liam muttered. David steps forward now.

"If it's too soon to talk about—"David starts to say, but Liam cuts him off.

"No, no, it's okay, I have to tell you anyway, there's no time like the present," Liam sighs again. "I must've been seven years old. Killian had just been born, he might've been three, four weeks in the world, maybe more. We were on a voyage with our father; I don't know where our mother was. We had been sailing for a few days, when we came under attack by pirates," Liam tries to hold back tears, but the memories of the painful experience are too much for him. A single tear spills down his cheek, but he continues with the story. "I don't remember much, I was just a lad, but I do remember this. Our father abandoned us, and the pirates pulled us out of the ocean. The coward abandoned his two sons! They pulled us out of the ocean, and the captain took me on as a cabin boy. I hid Killian the best I could, gave him half of my portions every meal, I took care of him the best I could. I did! I was a child!" the tears fell freely down his face now. "But the captain found out anyway. And he nearly killed me, probably would've if Killian had been old enough to be his cabin boy. I became, the crew's slave, little more than that, and Killian, well Killian, became the crew's punching bag." At this point, Liam's body is racked with sobs. Snow's crying, and David is fighting back tears.

"Oh Liam, your father didn't abandon you," Snow says, trying to dry her eyes. "He died, the pirates killed him."

"How—How do you know?" Liam stutters.

"Liam, your father was Prince Collin of the Martime Kingdom. You and your brother, you are royalty," David says. "You—you have his eyes." Liam looks at the royal couple, his eyes, the eyes that he shares with his brother, and his father, burning with anger.

"I know who he was," Liam growls. Snow gasps, but David doesn't look surprised. "He was a coward," Liam continues. "He jumped ship once he caught sight of the red flag. The pirates didn't kill him, he drowned."

"Does Killian know?" David asked.

"No," Liam snaps. "And he can never know. He can't live with it. He can't live with knowing that his father didn't want him. Let him think that his father was a man who came from nothing, and died an honorable death trying to protect his family. God knows he needs to think something good of his family." On the other side of the room, Killian groans, and Emma stirs. She carefully sits up, avoiding moving the bed too much, trying not to hurt Killian, who wakes up anyway.

"Your majesties, I would like to formally introduce you to my brother, Killian Jones," Liam says.

"Your majesties?" Killian questions. He looks over at the girl next to him. "You're a princess?" she nods her head, and he laughs dryly. Liam joins him in his laughter.

"I know brother, what a turn of events." Liam chuckles. He walks over and ruffles his brother's hair. "We made it, we are going to be okay." Liam whispers.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Next Day**

_ Dear Baelfire,_

_ There's a ball tonight, celebrating Neal's first birthday, and I do hope to see you there. There are some people I would like you to meet, and they're amazing. Plus, I don't want to be stuck with Melody again. She's very nice, but she talks an awful lot, and she's so much older than me. So much has happened since you were here, and it's pretty fantastic, but I miss you. No one else likes to play in the garden with me. Next time I see you, we should have a sword fight. Graham and Daddy have been teaching me. Write back soon._

_Yours truly,_

_ Princess Emma Swan._

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Emma runs through the halls, singing loud enough to wake the dead. She turns a corner sharply, darting into the infirmary turned bedroom to see Killian and Liam.

"There's a ball tonight!" she sings. Killian looks at her in wonder, and Liam just laughs.

"One that we won't be attending I'm afraid," Liam says, effectively killing the princess' good mood.

"Oh yes you will," Emma says sternly. "And we are going to have fun!" she continues, her voice lifting, along with her spirits.

"I'm sorry your highness, but I'm afraid we are not invited," Killian says shyly. Liam chuckles, wondering how his brother is already wrapped around the finger of the princess.

"You live at the castle, what makes you think you aren't invited?" Emma asks curiously.

"What my brother means to say, is that we have nothing to wear, and Killian can barely get out of bed!" Liam laughs, watching Killian's face turn crimson. This sentence stops Emma in her tracks.

"Hmmm, I didn't think of that," she mumbles, not paying attention to the pair of brothers. She wrings her hands, trying to come up with a solution to this newfound problem. Suddenly, in a burst of yellow and red smoke, two formal, but modest outfits appear in front of the boys, along with a crutch in front of Killian. All three children in the room jump in surprise.

"Did you do that?" Liam asked Emma in shock. The look on her face mirrors the one on his own.

"I—I don't know," Emma stutters. "I think so." She walks over to the clothing on Liam's bed and picks it up. The simple yet elegant outfit is made up of a pair of black pants, a white ruffled button down shirt, a shimmering black cummerbund, a sea blue vest, to match his eyes, and a black jacket with emerald green, and sea blue accents, the blue matching the vest, the green complementing the whole outfit nicely. A pair of polished black leather loafers pull the whole thing together.

"This is just like I imagined it," Emma whispers, turning the shoe over in her hand, before setting it down on the floor next to its partner. "Does it all fit?"

"I don't know Emma," Liam says.

"Well try it on, I won't look," the four year old girl says, her voice holding just as much power as her parents. She spins on her heel, walking over to Killian. The sleek black crutch is carved from ebony, a cushion adorning the place where the user would rest his arm. A suit, almost identical to his brother's hangs from the crutch. Killian's suit has one crucial difference though. The accents on Killian's clothing are all bright red, and there's a sea blue and emerald green handkerchief poking out of the jacket pocket. Emma's eyes sparkle as she looks at the young boy, who she has grown to call her friend.

"It matches my dress," she says with a dazzling smile. Killian can't help but grin at the girl as she stares in amazement at the garments.

"It fits," Liam says finally. Emma spins around and her smile only grows wider as she is greeted with the sight of Liam, standing in front of her bashfully, the clothes fitting perfectly.

"Wow," Killian utters at the sight of his brother in what looks like royal garb. Emma's smile now reaches from ear to ear, and her eyes sparkle.

"Well, I'll see you at the ball!" she shouts, prancing out of the room and resuming her singing.

"Aye I guess she will," Liam says, looking down at his clothes. "Come on brother, it will take a while to get you dressed."

**At The Ball**

"I give you, Queen Snow White, King David, Princess Emma, and Prince Neal!" the man with the loud voice introduced. The trumpets played, and the royal family walked down the stairs. Well, Emma sort of bounced down the stairs, barely containing her excitement. Killian stood with Liam off in a far corner, leaning heavily on the crutch Emma had conjured up from nowhere. He looked at the princess with a bewildered expression. Why was he drawn to her? Why did he want only to make her happy? She was a girl! These were all very troubling thoughts for a boy of seven years old, but what was even more troubling, was the strange boy hugging Emma. Killian's face clouded, and his brother chuckled.

"Cheer up brother, you've only known the lass for a day or two, you have to give it time," Liam laughed. Killian could only watch as Emma grabbed the strange boy's hand, and dragged him towards them.

"Baelfire, I would like you to meet Killian and Liam," Emma said in a regal tone. "Killian, Liam, this is Baelfire." Liam stuck out his hand and the strange boy shook it carefully.

"Prince Baelfire," the strange boy added, eyeing Killian warily, as Emma grabbed both their hands.

"Let's go outside!" Emma exclaimed, dragging the two boys towards the door, Liam following with a smirk on his face. _So Killy has some competition,_ Liam thought. _I'm curious to see how this plays out._

The night went on, with Killian attempting to be polite to Baelfire, and Baelfire essentially ignoring him, focusing all of his attention on Princess Emma. Liam could only chuckle as his brother sent him an exasperated look when Baelfire challenged him and Emma to a race. Emma glared at Baelfire, her gaze darkening.

"Bae," Emma started, her voice almost shaking with anger. "How can you be so mean? You can see the crutch, you know he can't run!" Killian's face turned dark red at this proclamation. He and Baelfire both turned to Emma.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean—"Baelfire began to say before Killian cut him off.

"No need to apologize mate I can race," Killian stated matter of factly. Liam looked at his brother curiously, wondering what his brother was up to. Emma just gaped at him.

"No you can't, you're hurt!" the princess said, blatantly wearing her concern for Killian on her face. Baelfire's ears burned with jealousy.

"No if he wants to race, let the cripple race!" Baelfire spat. Liam started towards the spoiled boy at this sentence, and would've beaten him to a pulp if Killian hadn't glanced at him reassuringly. The same couldn't be said for Princess Emma though, who had no problem smacking Baelfire across the face. Bae put his hand on his cheek, more shocked than anything else.

"Alright, one lap through the gardens!" Emma shouted. "The winner," she announced, her voice quieting, a smile on her lips, "May get a token from the princess." Liam smirked once more, watching the clueless boys line up at the starting point. He jogged over to Emma, stopping her before she could say go.

"Emma, no magic okay? I want to see if my dear brother can handle this fool," Liam whispered. Emma nodded her head, and Liam jogged back to his spot. Emma looked at Killian and Baelfire, neither of which had any idea what a Princess' token was, but wanted to have it just the same, if only so the other wouldn't.

"Ready," Emma called. "Go!" The boys took off, Killian hobbling on his crutch, and Baelfire sprinting gracefully down the path. By the time the young prince had rounded the corner, Killian was barely half way. Emma heaved a sigh, but Liam watched curiously as the boy turned to his right, and promptly entered the garden, trampling many plants in the process. Killian made a small circle, emerging from the flower beds a small ways down the path opposite to the starting point. He crutched his way down the path and over to Emma, a smile gracing her face, and an even bigger one spread across his face. They waited together, hand in hand for Baelfire to come running down the path. Finally, he rounded the corner, and the cocky grin dropped from his face as he saw who was awaiting him at the finish line.

"He cheated!" Baelfire cried, frowning at the injustice of it all.

"I did one lap through the garden mate, same as you. I just took a shorter route," Killian smirked, almost feeling sorry for the poor sod. Almost.

"Well I guess Killian gets my token," Emma declared.

"But—" Baelfire began.

"No Bae," Emma said sternly. She then promptly leaned over to Killian and kissed him on the cheek. Both boys were stunned into silence. Liam finally spoke up, trying to keep from laughing while doing so.

"Uh Princess, it's getting late. Why don't you walk Prince Baelfire inside and I'll take Killian upstairs. He needs to rest," he managed to say, snickering as Emma grabbed Baelfire's hand, bringing him back down to Earth.

"Okay Liam," she said happily. "Goodnight Killian. Goodnight Liam. See you tomorrow!" She dragged the young prince inside and Killian sighed.

"Come on brother, let's get you up to bed," Liam said, ignoring the shining white butterfly that fluttered around his brother's head.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Fifth Year**

"Her magic grows stronger every day, and now it seems that Neal also has magic. They need to learn to control it!" Snow shouts at her husband.

"And who's going to teach them? Regina? Rumplestitleskin?" David replies, his voice level with Snow's. "There's no one we trust enough to do it!" At this, Snow White sits down heavily in an armchair, taking a deep breath.

"It's just—I'm—I'm pregnant David," she says. David's solemn expression changes to an overjoyed one in a second.

"Another child! Snow that's great!" David cries, reaching down to embrace his wife. She laughs and hugs him tightly. He lets go, and his hand makes its way down to her still flat stomach.

"David, I'm worried. What if this child has magic too? What if none of them learn to control it? Or what if they do learn to control it and end up having magic fights or something when they're older?" The words tumble out of Snow's mouth before she can stop them, and David chuckles.

"Darling, I don't think we have much to worry about. Emma seems to be in control of her magic, and Neal is only a year old. By the time he comes of an age where his magic is getting out of hand, Emma will be experienced enough to help him," David points out, grasping his wife's hand. "Everything will be fine." Snow sighs, squeezing his hand in return.

"I hope you're right."

SWDSWDSWDSWDSWDSWDSWDSWDSWDSW 

Emma chased the silvery butterfly down the garden paths, following it around corners, and under trellises, until she runs into Killian, literally, very nearly knocking them both into the fish pond.

"Careful!" Killian exclaims, grabbing Emma by the shoulders to steady her, and himself, his bad leg straining with the effort. "I still haven't got full strength back Princess."

"Sorry Killian," Emma pouts, looking up at the boy through her lashes. At almost eight years old, the boy towers over her. That, along with his eyes, which have seen too much during their short time on earth, make him look much older than he is. But he isn't the only one who's grown up during his year at the castle. Emma, at five years old, stands almost as tall as Killian was when he first arrived. Her golden locks reach below her shoulders, and no longer curl into childish ringlets. Her sword fighting has improved immensely, as has her horseback riding, and her skill at bow and arrow.

"It's okay, just watch out," Killian replies, returning his eyes to the pond, utterly fascinated. Emma on the other hand, was not interested in the fish. She was mesmerized by the boy in front of her, though she didn't know why. She felt safe around him, a feeling she otherwise only felt when she was in the company of her parents. It puzzled the young girl, but it didn't matter much to her. She watched as Killian sighed a content sigh, and looked up to meet her eyes.

"What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Well it's almost time for lunch, let's have a picnic!" Emma replied enthusiastically. And that they did. They went into the kitchen to grab lunch, and a blanket, before venturing out to Emma's favorite, and Killian's soon to be favorite, tree. It was an oak, with low hanging branches good for climbing, and providing shade. They spread the blanket out and sat down to eat. When the food was finished, they lay down on the blanket, side by side, and looked up at the sky through the tree branches.

"What's it like to fly?" Emma wondered aloud, watching the clouds float by above them. She turned to Killian. "Do you know?" He chuckled.

"Well, I'd imagine that you feel light, like you haven't got a care in the world. The wind would be blowing your hair back, and knowing you, you'd be whooping and hollering, swooping back and forth and doing loops. You'd be free." Killian replied, reaching for Emma's hand, as if to hold her down to earth, or maybe so if she took off flying, she wouldn't leave him behind.

"I want to fly away," Emma said. "I want to fly away from the castle and I want to take you with me. We could see the world. We could be free!" Killian chuckled, looking at the girl next to him, his gaze full of adoration.

"Someday Emma," he responded.

"You promise Killian?" she questioned.

"I promise."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

**In the Dungeon**

Regina watched the children through the looking glass. She threw her head back and laughed maniacally.

"He promises," she mocked. "We'll see about that."

**Authors Note: Sorry it's so short; it's kind of a filler chapter before the real action happens. Warning! The curse will be cast in the next few chapters! Please, let me know what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Sixth Year**

_Dear Emma,_

_ I know it's been a while since I've last written you, and for that I am sorry. Things have been very busy at the palace lately, and father has required that I attend all of the meetings. I guess that's the life of a prince. I don't know why you complain about all of your duties as princess. Frankly, I believe you're quite lucky. Anyway, how are things? Neal would have to be two by now. Have you taught the boy to sword fight yet? I know you learned at an early age. Oh and your birthday is coming up! I'm afraid my father and I won't be able to make it, but I wish you well._

_Yours truly,_

_Prince Baelfire Gold_

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Emma read the letter from Bae and sighed. Of course he isn't coming to her birthday again. Baelfire and his father had no time for his future wife's birthdays. Another sigh. Oh well, after what happened at Neal's birthday ball last year, Emma didn't really want him to come. The young princess looked out her window and into the courtyard, where Liam and Killian were practicing running. Even after Emma healed the worst of Killian's injuries when he and Liam suddenly came into her life, he was so sick and tired that he had to stay in bed for weeks on end. There were a few scary moments when it was thought that all hope was lost, but for some reason, Emma had been able to bring him back. It was all highly unusual, but the children tried not to let it bother them too much. Emma was shaken from her thoughts by a voice calling her name.

"Fancy a sword fight lass?" Liam called up to her. Emma smiled and called back, "Be right down!" She tore through the castle halls and raced down the stairs. Emma flew through the door and out into the courtyard where the brothers were waiting for her. Sword in hand, they began sparring. What was supposed to be every man for himself, ended up Emma and Killian against Liam. The children hooted and hollered, enjoying the fresh air and each other's company. By now, Liam was sixteen. He was very tall, taller than the king himself, but he wasn't awkward like most other teenagers. His dark hair and light eyes, combined with his muscular stature, made the ladies swoon at royal balls, even though he only had eyes for one. Melody, the princess of Denmark, Queen Ariel and King Eric's daughter. Born of true love, Melody had magic that could control the water. Emma and Killian teased him constantly about it, but only because they were sure Melody returned the feeling.

The king and queen watched from the windows as Killian and Emma cornered Liam, who yielded almost as soon as his back hit the wall. The children then turned on each other, laughing as their swords clashed.

"She's drawn to him," David stated. "And he's drawn to her in much the same way. I can't decide if it's just childish infatuation, or something more. But have you ever heard of someone finding their true love so young?"

"I haven't, but there's no way to be sure." Snow White responded. "But anything is possible, especially with Emma and Killian. I mean, what were the odds of him surviving in the condition we found him in? If it hadn't been for Emma, Liam would've buried his brother."

"I don't know that he could've handled that," David said quietly. The parents turned back to the window to watch the ongoing sword fight. Emma and Killian were evenly matched, but lately, Killian had been winning more, due to the fact that while he grew strong and tall, Emma remained girlish, and simply couldn't match him in strength. Killian pinned Emma, pressing his sword against her chest.

"Yield," he commanded in as threatening of a voice he could manage with her. Emma pretended to ponder his order. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she smashed her sword onto his, effectively stunning him. She spun out of his grip, and got behind him, using her more agile body to her advantage. She placed the edge of her sword to Killian's neck.

"I think you're the one who should yield Killian," Emma said with a smirk. Killian smiled and dropped his sword.

"I yield," he said. David watched this whole spectacle from the window, grinning.

"That's my girl," David said proudly. Suddenly, he heard a gasp from beside him. "Snow!" he yelled.

"David," she said breathlessly. "The baby's coming."

"But it's only been eight months!" David cried, trying not to freak out. Snow only laughed.

"Well when the baby wants to come out, it wants to come out!" she said, before groaning again. "I forgot how terrible labor is."

"Guards! Johanna!" David shouted, panicking slightly. "The baby's coming!"

**Later **

_Dear Baelfire, don't worry about coming to my birthday, its fine, I understand. You might have another birthday celebration to come to though. The baby came today. His name is Leopold, after my mother's father. Leo for short. Unlike Neal and I, he has dark hair, like my mother and blue eyes like my father. Since you haven't seen Neal in a while, I'll tell you, that his hair, is a darker blonde than mine, and he has brown eyes. I guess I still look the same, though I'm much taller. I hope to see you soon. It is a shame that you can't come to my birthday next month, but I understand that you have a duty to your kingdom. Mine are much the same, and I hope you understand if I'm ever unavailable to attend a ball in your kingdom. I do hope to see you soon though! Liam and Killian send their regards._

_Yours truly,_

_ Princess Emma Swan _

**The Seventh Year**

Emma and Killian stood solemnly with the rest of the royal family at the palace gates, saying their goodbyes to now seventeen year old Liam, who was going on his first naval voyage. He shook King David's hand, and kissed the back of Queen Snow's. Liam then proceeded to reach down and ruffle Neal's hair. The three year old hugged Liam's legs as hard as he could, tears in his eyes.

"I'll miss you Wiam," Neal said softly, his doe eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I'll miss you too Neal," Liam chuckled. He proceeded down the line of his adoptive family, stroking Leopold's cheek, before coming to Emma. He knelt down in front of the princess, and took her small, soft hand in his large, callused one. His eyes poured into hers, and he felt them start to sting at the sight of the girl's unadulterated strength, and her compassion.

"Do me a favor princess," he started, taking a deep breath. "Take care of my brother." Now Liam was very close to sobbing, as was Emma.

"Of course Liam," Emma responded, letting a single tear slip down her cheek. She embraced him tightly, before letting go, so he could move onto the most painful goodbye of all. Killian had broken down into silent tears the moment they reached the gate. His brother kneeled in front of him, and placed his hand on his shoulder, trying to communicate all that he was feeling, trying to give the young boy some of his strength, God knows he would need it.

"Don't go," Killian whispered, his eyes red and puffy, his face streaked with tears. Liam took a shaky breath, trying not to lose it in front of everybody.

"I have to Killian. The sea, it—it calls to me," Liam whispered back. Killian nodded.

"I feel it too," he said, attempting to calm himself down.

"Killian, my dear, sweet, baby brother, I love you with all my heart. I need you to be strong, for me, and for yourself. You will do great things in this world Killian, I feel it in my gut. Right now lad, you just have to promise me one thing. Promise me you'll protect her," Liam whispered in Killian's ear, so only he could hear.

"Liam I don't understand," Killian muttered, confusion coming through the over powering sadness. Liam looked him square in the eye and whispered again. "Protect the princess with your life okay? If you take care of her, she'll take care of you." Killian nodded, and wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders in a grip like a vice.

"I promise, but only if you promise me something in return." Killian stated.

"And what is that?" Liam chuckled hesitantly.

"Promise me you'll come back," Killian said. Liam looked into his brother's deep blue eyes, and saw not the child who needed his help to survive beatings from the captain. He saw the brave, strong man that Killian would become, and he nodded, wanting to see it for himself.

"I promise brother. I promise."

**The Eighth Year**

It was Killian's birthday, and he was none too happy about it. This birthday, would be the first that Liam would miss, and it surely wouldn't be the last. He skulked in his room all day, taking his meals there, and not emerging, even for the promise of a day in the gardens from a four year old Neal, accompanied by a two year old Leopold. He was lying in bed, staring out his window, which over looked the sea, when he heard a knock at the door. He turned, only to see Princess Emma standing in the door way, dressed in riding gear.

"Happy birthday Killian," she said quietly. "What are you doing?" He sighed a gut wrenching sigh, before turning back to the window.

"Just hoping. It's all in vain I guess," he spat, willing her to go away. He should've known though, Emma isn't easily deterred. She walked forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"He said he was sorry he couldn't make it Killian," she whispered. "There was nothing he could do, you know he would be here if it was possible."

"Go away Emma," Killian growled, keeping his back turned towards her.

"No," she said stubbornly. They stayed like that for a while, and he took comfort in the fact that she wasn't leaving. He leaned back into her standing form, resting his head on her shoulder.

"What are you doing here Emma?" he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to go riding," she stated matter of factly. "Maybe take your mind off of things."

"Okay let's go. Let me get my riding gear." He replied, jumping off the bed, and running over to his wardrobe.

"Really?" Emma asked, delighted.

"Really," Killian responded. Her eyes lit up, and so did his, for the sight never failed to make him smile.

"I'll meet you down in the stables," she said, running out of the room. He dressed as quickly as he could, before racing after her.


	11. Chapter 11

**AUTHORS NOTE: The rest of the chapters, up until the curse, including this one, will contain snap shots from the years of  
Emma and Killian's childhood, like they have been, just much shorter. Also, for those of you who asked this, it is entirely possible for a child to have brown eyes if their parents have green and blue eyes, if any of their grandparents (Ruth, and King Leopold) had brown eyes, because the parents would carry the gene for brown eyes, though it may be unlikely. It is also entirely possible, if not likely, for a child to have blue eyes, if one of the parents has blue eyes. Both Neal and Leopold are David's children. Also, in the Enchanted Forest, Leopold would be an entirely acceptable and respectable name. Even though I find it most likely that Snow White did name the kids, I think that David from the Enchanted Forest would've been pleased with the name. It shortens to Leo, which means lion; frankly, I believe that any father would be happy to have their son nicknamed "Lion". Thank you for your input, and thanks for reading!**

**The Ninth Year**

"Emma! Emma wake up!" Killian shouted. Emma stretched her arms up over her head, and groaned.

"Agh Killian it's so early," Emma grumbled.

"Liam's coming back today Emma come on get up!" Killian exclaimed, shaking her gently. Emma batted at Killian's face with her hand.

"Alright, alright I'm coming," she said. Emma rolled out of bed, and scrambled to get dressed as Killian left the room. She dressed in her riding clothes, and together, her and Killian ran down to the stables, and mounted their horses. They rode down the path and out through the castle gates. Accompanied by the typical entourage of guards, they made their way through the village, and to the harbor, where Liam was just stepping off his ship. Killian dismounted his horse, and ran down the dock. He catapulted himself into his brother's arm, hugging him tightly.

"I missed you Liam," Killian said softly, tears of joy rolling down his cheek.

"I missed you too Killian. I missed you too."

**The Tenth Year**

"Hey mom have you seen Leo?" Emma called to her mother.

"Nice try Emma you'll have to win the game fair and square," Snow called back.

"Aw please mom?" Emma tried again. Snow White just laughed and continued on writing in her journal. Emma continued through the halls, hunting for her brothers. Every closet door was opened, every bed checked under, and every drape that hung to the floor opened.

"Pst Emma," a voice whispered. She whipped her head around, searching for the source of the voice.

"Killian?" she whispered back. No answer. After a while, she continued down the hall, passing by all the doors she thought she had checked.

"Emma, check the door to your right," the voice said. Emma paused, cocking her head, trying to pinpoint the voices exact location. Unable to, she decided to take the voice's advice, and opened the door to her left, only to find both Neal and Leo, huddled against each other, tucked in the far back corner.

"No fair!" Leo shrieked, stomping his foot as he emerged from the closet. "You cheated!"

"Killian told you didn't he?" Neal asked calmly.

"Well I think it was Killian, but I can't see him. I know he's there though, because I can feel him," Emma responded. Suddenly, a laugh rang through the hallway.

"I had young Neal here make me invisible!" Killian chuckled, surely with a smirk on his face. Emma sighed exasperatedly, and waved her hand. Slowly, Killian's form came into view.

"I should've known," Emma sighed again. "That was a good trick though."

"It was wasn't it," Neal grinned right alongside with Killian.

"The lad really has a way with the visual aspects of his magic," Killian said. Neal turned to Killian mischievously.

"Are you implying that my drawing skills are because of my magic?" Neal asked, his eyes twinkling. Killian's grin faltered slightly, before he caught on to the game.

"No lad, I'm saying your good looks might be though," Killian smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Hey!" Neal exclaimed, punching Killian's shoulder. Emma and Leo giggled at the boy's antics. Leo proceeded to reach out and grab Emma's hand. Their giggling and laughing paused, until Leo released her hand.

"He's hungry, I'm going to take him down to the kitchen. Meet me out in the courtyard?" Emma asked.

"Deal," Neal and Killian agreed. Killian watched as Emma walked away, holding her youngest brother's hand. Neal laughed loudly.

"Just ask to court her!" Neal chuckled.

"I can't, we're too young. Besides, she's betrothed to Baelfire," Killian replied wistfully.

"So wait until you're both of age! And you know she doesn't like Baelfire!" Neal stated bluntly. Killian sighed again.

"I'm not royalty Neal, I can't court her. She's a princess, and I'm—well I'm just Killian Jones."

**The Eleventh Year**

"Killian Jones!" an angry voice growled from behind him. He dropped his pack, and turned to the young princess standing in the door way.

"The one and only," he responded sarcastically, ignoring her crossed arm, and the way her foot was tapping.

"Where do you think you're going?" she snarled, eyeing the bundle of clothes on his bed.

"I'm going hunting your majesty," he responded pleasantly, turning back to the bed to continue preparing for the trip.

"Not without me you're not!" she cried, turning away, and storming out of the room. Killian finished packing his things, and sat down on his bed to wait. A short time later, the Princess returned, wearing green and brown clothes, a sack slung over her shoulder. He stood, and offered her his hand.

"Are you ready to go Princess?" he asked, giving her his best _I'm too adorable to stay mad at_ face.

"Yes I'm ready," she sighed. Ignoring his hand, she turned and started down the hallway. Killian followed, a small smile gracing his lips.

**The Twelfth Year**

"Yes just like that Emma," her father praised as Emma parried another one of his attacks with her sword.

`"What are the rules of sword fighting Emma?" David asked, as Emma fended off what would've been a near fatal blow, had they not been just practicing.

"Relax, don't tense your muscles. Assess the situation. Be cautious but not conservative," Emma rattled off, feigning an attack to her father's left before striking to the right instead.

"Very good, very good. What else?" he pressed, blocking her blow with ease.

"Um, be aware of your surroundings, try to conserve your energy, and know your weapon better than your opponent knows their own," she continued, her attention never waning until she caught sight of a shadow in the corner. She ignored it to the best of her ability, focusing back on what her father was saying.

"And the most important thing is?" he questioned, swinging at his daughter again, their swords clashing with enough force to knock her back a few steps, but not to the ground. She caught sight of the shadow again, and during the split second she lost focus staring at it, her father swung a crushing blow at her sword hand, throwing her off balance, and sending her sword flying in the direction of the shadow. She landed on the ground with a thud. Breathing heavily, she shivered as a shadow, _the_ shadow fell over her.

"Never get distracted," Killian said with a smirk, pulling her to her feet, and handing her sword to her.

"Well I'll leave you two to it," David chuckled, handing the sword he had been practicing with to Killian. He headed for the door, but paused for a moment. Turning back to watch, he smiled as he caught sight of the shining white butterfly, fluttering overhead.


	12. Chapter 12

**AUTHORS NOTE:** **So I was thinking guys that we call the brown eyes a genetic mutation and leave it at that, because I personally like the way the characters are written and I think the brown eyes make Neal different than all his siblings, and I was planning to make that important once the curse hits. This chapter was almost physically painful to write, as I'm sure you'll understand once you read, but it had to be done. As always, thank you for your input, and thanks for reading!**

**The Thirteenth Year**

Emma awoke as the sun rose, the light shining through her curtains hitting her straight in the face. Her arms stretched above her head and she groaned, mentally preparing herself to start her day. She looked to her right, her neck cracking, and repeated the movement, this time to the left. As she was completing her ritual, something odd caught her eye on her bed stand, for it hadn't been there the night before. Emma rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and reached for the mysterious object. Her nimble fingers found it, and she brought it close to her face, examining it closely. It was an envelope, with the words _To My Princess_, written across the front in careful calligraphy. Emma's brow furrowed with confusion. Only one person called her his princess. She opened the letter.

_My dearest princess,_

_It is with great sorrow and great joy that I am writing you this letter. You see, goodbyes have never been my strong suit. I am filled with sorrow because I simply could not do this in person, though I wish I could. But I am simply not strong enough. I could never bear to see you crying, and to know that I would be the source of that pain, would have crushed me, and I would have lost my resolve. I don't even know for sure that you would've cried, but I like to think you would have. Emma, I have joined my brother in the Navy, and for that I am happy. You see, Liam is the youngest captain in your kingdom's royal navy. He's a fantastic sailor, and he's everything I aspire to be. The sea calls to him, as it does to me, and I cannot fight it. I will work my way up through the ranks, and I hope to be Liam's lieutenant. You, my beautiful princess, will hear stories of the brave Jones brothers, fighting off pirates, and protecting the kingdom, protecting you. But you needn't worry for me lass, because I was once given a token by a fair, young princess, and as I'm sure you've heard, those are incredibly lucky. I'm truly sorry I didn't tell you Emma, but I couldn't. I do hope you forgive me. Next time you see me, it will be at a ball in my and my brother's honor, I promise you that. Save me a dance lass, for I'll be the one in red._

_Yours always,_

_Killian Jones_

A tear slipped down Emma's cheek as she read the letter. Her best friend, the only thing keeping her sane, the only thing keeping her from breaking under the weight of being a princess, had gone away. She grabbed the letter, and stormed down to the dining hall, only to find her parents eating breakfast as if Emma's anchor hadn't left her behind.

"You knew!" she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks, grasping the letter tightly. "You knew he was going to leave me and you didn't bother to tell me!" Her vision blurred from the tears, so she could no longer see the faces of her concerned parents. She sat down on the floor, and laid her head in her hands, sobbing. Her mother wrapped her arms around the girl, rocking her back and forth, as her father sat down next to them.

"Shh shh Emma," Snow White crooned. "It's okay, it's okay." Emma refused to be comforted, she only cried harder. Snow looked to her husband for help, and David sighed.

"Emma, he didn't want to make it any harder than it had to be," David said gently, stroking his daughter's back. Emma looked up from her hands, her eyes darkening, her tear streaked face twisting in anger.

"He didn't want to make it harder?" she yelled. "Well a fantastic job he did with that!" A gale force wind started blowing inside the room, whipping the royal's hair around, knocking dishes off the table. Guards moved forward, shield's raised to protect the family, as well as themselves.

"He could've said something!" Emma yelled again, as the wind grew stronger. "I had a right to know! HE PROMISED!" she shouted. The wind's power grew steadily, picking up debris, and throwing it around the room. Emma stood, raising her hands, and summoning as much power as she could control, she twisted the elements, creating a full blown tornado inside of the dining hall.

"Emma STOP!" Snow yelled, grasping her daughter's ankle, and her husband's hand simultaneously. Emma didn't reply, and the tornado just spun faster. Suddenly, the winds' strength dropped significantly. Emma looked around, her eyes finding her younger brother's standing in the door way. Neal's brow was creased in concentration, and Leo just looked scared. Emma let out another surge of power, counteracting whatever Neal was doing. She glanced at her brothers again. Sheer determination was written all over Neal's face, and that must've been the only thing keeping him and Leo from being blown away by the wind. Neal reached out and took Leo's hand. The fear melted away from the younger boy's face, replaced by a look mirroring the one his older brother look. He walked forward, towards his sister, the wind seeming to avoid the boy, like it was scared of him. Leo walked through the wall of guards, past his parents, and reached Emma. He took her hand, and she looked down at the small boy. She looked down at him, and his eyes poured into hers. All the anger left her, leaving only the sadness, and she fell to her knees, and she cried, and cried, and cried.

**The Fourteenth Year**

"She hasn't been the same since he left David," Snow said. "She's miserable, and she hasn't asked to go on any hunting trips, or tried to ditch any sessions of court, or even ripped a dress!"

"I know," David responded quietly.

"And are you not concerned?" Snow cried. David looked up at her, though he wasn't really seeing her.

"Snow, I need to tell you something," he mumbled, quiet enough that Snow could barely hear him. She turned to him, her eyes widening, a frown forming on her face.

"Oh this better be good Charming!" she spat. David cringed at the nickname that his wife only used when she was either incredibly mad at him, or about to take him to bed. He was pretty sure that, in this case, the former applied. He sighed deeply.

"Remember how we found Liam and Killian?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah," she replied. "We followed a silver butterfly, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"I've seen that very same butterfly around Emma since she was three years old. It's been there whenever she's been in trouble, or from what I've been told by Liam, it's also been around Killian whenever he's been in trouble. It's been protecting both of them and some way, somehow, it brought them together, and now they're apart again, and I have a gut feeling that something terrible is going to happen." David said quickly, gasping for air as he finished.

"Oh my god," Snow breathed. "David we have to call off Emma's betrothal. They belong together. They need each other!"

"We can't," he said sternly. "Not until they realize it themselves. It has to come naturally."

"And what if it doesn't?" She asked.

"It has to." He said solemnly.

**Somewhere at Sea**

That night, just like all nights he was away from her, he fell into a restless sleep. He always dreamed of her, but this time, it was different. She was older, as was he, and they both were dressed in clothing from a different land. He wore a silver chest plate with scales made of bronze on the front, over a light tunic. On his feet, he wore leather sandals, and metal plates covered his shins. He carried a heavy sword, and wore a strange helmet on his head. He was scared, but not for himself. He was scared for her. He wasn't sure why, but he ran, not knowing where he was going. He ran, not for his life, but for hers. She finally came into view, wearing a long white dress, tied over one shoulder. She was kneeling on the ground, staring at a masked man, with no fear.

"Stop!" he yelled, but it was no use. The attacker raised his sword, and Emma met his deep blue eyes, with her emerald green ones. They communicated thoughts and feelings too deep for both of them to understand. He kept running, but didn't seem to get any closer. He watched as the man swung the sword, and she closed her eyes.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Killian awoke screaming, sweat running down his face, breathing heavily. Liam ran down the stairs, to find his brother with his head in his hands.

"Oh Killian," he whispered, grabbing his brother's hand. "You have to calm down. She's not here to help you Killian, it's only me. You have to bear with me brother." Killian's breathing didn't slow. Liam pressed his brother's hand to his chest, so he could feel his heartbeat.

"Feel that Killian? That's what your heart should feel like. Come on, try to make yours match mine." Liam whispered. Killian didn't respond. "Please Killian." Killian closed his eyes, and took a deep, but shaky breath.

"That's it Killian," Liam said soothingly. Killian's breathing gradually slowed. "What happened?" Killian shuddered.

"I couldn't save her. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it." Killian whispered.

"It was just a dream Killian, it's okay," Liam sighed, holding his brother's head in his lap until he fell back to sleep.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma shot up in bed, breathing heavily, muffling a scream. _It was just a dream_, she thought, trying to calm herself down. It was a dream that had seemed very real. She had been in a strange land, wearing strange clothes, fighting an unwinnable battle. She had died, and Killian had watched it happened. _Oh my god Killian!_ In a sudden burst of power, she found herself on the deck of the Jewel of the Realm, facing a very appalled Captain Liam Jones.

"Emma?" he gasped.

"Been a long time Liam," she said nonchalantly. "Is Killian okay?" Liam raised his eyebrows in a way that immediately made Emma wish she was talking to Killian instead.

"He's a little wound up. He had an anxiety attack," Liam responded.

"He hasn't had one of those in ten year Liam! What happened?" Emma exclaimed. Liam looked at her closely.

"He had a bad dream," Liam said quietly. Emma's face fell.

"About what?" she asked timidly. Liam glanced at her again, this time holding her gaze.

"I asked him about it. All he said was that he couldn't save her, no matter how hard he tried." Liam sighed. "I'm assuming he was referring to you." Emma took a deep breath.

"Why are you here Emma?" Liam asked

"I think we shared a dream Liam," Emma started. "It was weird, but I just—I just had this feeling that he was really there. And it all felt so real Liam! After what happened, I knew I'd have to check on him."

"Well he's below deck, but he's asleep, because he's off duty. Try not to wake him or any of the crew up okay?" Liam instructed. Emma nodded and proceeded below deck, letting her instincts lead her to Killian's cabin. She opened the door slowly, and walked up to the sleeping man in the bunk. He didn't look peaceful, like people should while they're sleeping, he looked troubled.

"Oh Killian," she whispered, stroking his face. He relaxed instantly, almost smiling in his sleep. Emma smirked at that, and went back on deck to talk to Liam.

"I think he'll be okay," Emma said.

"Did you talk to him?" Liam asked.

"He was asleep," Emma replied quickly.

"You could stay, his shift is in an hour or so," Liam added hopefully. But when he turned around, she was already gone.


	13. Chapter 13

**The Fifteenth Year**

"Sit still," Neal ordered his siblings. Leo continued to fidget on Emma's lap, and she fought to keep back a laugh. Neal sighed exasperatedly.

"Leo, I'll draw you separate from Emma okay?" Neal suggested. Leo jumped off of Emma's lap, and ran off in search of his parents.

"He won't be back you know," Emma stated.

"I know," Neal responded, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh no," Emma warned, her eyes widening. "You're getting the magic tingle aren't you."

"Yup, so you don't have to model for this one," Neal answered distractedly, already absorbed in his drawing.

"I'll talk to you later Neal," Emma said, rising from her perch, and exiting the room. Neal's "magic tingle" as he so fondly called it, made him almost lose control over his hands. When he got the feeling, he had to grab a piece of parchment and some type of writing utensil, otherwise the feeling would persist, and he would be continuously distracted, until he scratched the itch. The first drawing he drew under these circumstances was Leo falling off his horse. His parents chastised him for drawing such a terrible thing, the day before they went riding, but Neal said nothing. He apologized to Leo, and they went riding the next day. An hour or so in, Leo's horse was spooked by a snake, and threw him. It was Neal's quick reflexes that saved the boy from a fall that would've resulted in several broken bones. Neal used his magic to float his brother to the ground, much to the chagrin of his shocked parents.

"Emma!" Neal called. "Emma wait a second!" Emma stopped in the middle of the hallway, giving her younger brother a chance to catch up. He jogs, waving the newly filled piece of parchment paper.

"What is it Neal?" Emma asks impatiently.

"It's not like you're going anywhere Em," Neal responded snarkily. "And anyway, you might want to look at this. Just promise not to shoot the messenger."

"Just give it to me Neal," Emma ordered shortly. Neal handed her the paper and quickly ran back the way he came. Emma sighed and looked at the paper. It was a tall man, with slight stubble, and piercing eyes, dancing with woman in a ball gown, her back turned. Upon closer examination, Emma found that the man was Killian. This Killian looked much more mature than the last time she had seen him, but there was no mistaking him. The tears started coming before she could stop them. With a destination finally in mind, Princess Emma ran.

**The Sixteenth Year**

Emma awoke from her nightmare, gasping for breath. Her body was racked with sobs, and she struggled to control herself. She had watched the last breath leave his body, and it had all felt so real. _I hope that wasn't another shared dream_, Emma thought to herself. The princess got ahold of her emotions, and looked around, attempting to make a guess at the time. By the way the light shone into her bedroom, she'd guess it was around dawn. _Well at least the sun's up this time,_ she thought. Emma pulled herself out of bed, for there was no point in trying to sleep again, and headed down to the dining hall. On her short journey, she passed the ballroom, which was already adorned in dark blue, and a rich gold, the colors of her kingdom's navy. _Oh that's right, the ball's this evening_, Emma remembered. As she grabbed an apple for breakfast, and started back towards her room, her thoughts wandering to Killian, for he and his brother were to be the guests of honor at the ball after all. She thought of his letter, and his request to her, to save him a dance. Her eyes started to sting, so she pushed thoughts of him out of her mind, focusing more on preparing for the celebration tonight.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"I expect all of you to dress your best tonight," the young lieutenant lectured. "Look like navy officers, and act like the gentleman I know you all are, deep, deep, deep, deep down inside of you." The men chuckled at the lieutenant's remark.

"What my dear brother means to say," Captain Jones started, walking across deck. "At ease men, is that you scurvy dogs serve under the Jones brothers! So act like it!" The men hurrahed at the captain's speech. "Now off with the lot of you! We are home after all!" The crew stampeded off the boat and into the village. Killian turned on his heel, and headed towards the cabin.

"And where do you think you're going?" Liam asked, following after his brother. Killian sighed, and turned to face his brother.

"Below deck," he stated, like it was obvious.

"You're not going anywhere until we talk about tonight," Liam said sternly, steering his brother to the railing, so they could look out over the water.

"Liam I'm fine," Killian grumbled.

"No you're not," Liam retorted. Killian twisted out of his brother's grip.

"I said I'm fine brother," he growled, before storming below deck. Liam followed him, but not before making a pit stop in the captain's cabin. He threw the door to the lieutenant's quarters open, and walked in.

"Listen here you stubborn ass, you most certainly are not fine, and with good reason too. Tonight, you're seeing Emma for the first time in years. It's okay to be nervous, and it's okay to be scared, but it's not okay to shut me out!" Liam yelled.

"I'm sorry Liam," Killian mumbled, not meeting his brother's eyes. Liam sighed, and threw the red vest he had grabbed from his quarters, at his brother's head. Killian stared at it quizzically.

"You said you'd be the one in red you idiot," Liam said before mimicking his brothers earlier movements, that is, turning on his heel, and walking out of the lieutenant's cabin.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

**Later that Evening**

Emma descended the steps on her brother's arm, struggling to control her breathing.

"Calm down Emma," Neal whispered.

"I'm trying," she responded a little breathlessly. Finally they reached the bottom, and the family parted ways. She wandered around, searching the faces of guests, looking for the one person she had been longing to see. While she was searching, she plowed into a couple passionately locking lips behind one of the columns.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" she started to say before she fully registered who she had interrupted. "Melody?" she asked, looking at her sheepish friend wide eyed, before turning to the man next to her. "Liam!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him. "It's been so long!" He hugged her tightly, before pulling away.

"Look at you Emma, all grown up," he said, grinning. Emma laughed, before looking between her red faced friend, and the shy smile of the man who had been like an older brother to her during her childhood.

"Well," she said, smirking, "I'll let you two get back to it."

"Oh no Emma really it's fine," Melody started, but Emma interrupted her.

"No please I insist. It's long overdue anyway," she replied before turning and walking away.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

He caught sight of her first, and Gods, did she look beautiful. Her hair was pulled into an elegant updo, with pieces falling out in the front, framing her face. Her dress was a deep crimson red, to match her lipstain, and her eyes were as green as ever. She was stunning. She turned head towards the source of the piercing gaze she felt on her back, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him. The princess marched over to him, a frown set deep into her face. When she reached him, she stopped, gazing into his sapphire eyes.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one wearing red princess," he whispered. Emma raised her hand, and he felt a stinging sensation across his face. "I deserved that," he said simply. She raised her hand and slapped him again. "That too," he continued. When she raised her hand a third time, he grabbed her wrist, and pulled her out into the garden, away from the mass of people. As she broke down, he held her shaking body close to him. When she was finished, she looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears.

"You promised," she whispered, breaking Killian's heart. He could only nod his head.

"Not a day went by where I didn't think of you," he whispered back. Emma swung her hand once more, this time with a closed fist, smashing it into the right side of Killian's face, before turning and walking away, back into the party. Killian groaned, holding his eye.

"Oi lass could you try not to take my eye out!" he yelled following after her. "Emma wait!" She spun around to face him, glaring at him.

"You left me Killian Jones. I loved you, and you left me!" She spat, before turning away from him again. He stood there for a moment, shocked at her words, before running after her.

"You loved me?" he repeated breathlessly once he caught up to her. She stopped walking, put her head in her hands and laughed dryly.

"Of course I loved you, you idiot!" she snapped. "I loved you from day one. Hell Killian, I visited the ship to check on you! I dreamed about you every God damn night!" He grabbed her chin gently, turning her head so he could look into her eyes.

"Do you still love me?" he asked nervously, fighting the urge to scratch the back of his neck. Emma laughed again.

"For all the good it will do me, I still love you Killian Jones," she replied. "And I always will." And then he was kissing her, and she was responding in kind. It was a kiss full of passion, and flames. It was full of need, and desperation, and want. When they finally broke for air, Killian smirked, and waggled his eyebrows.

"I think you still owe me that dance Princess," he chuckled.


	14. Chapter 14

** Authors Note: sorry for the long wait! I was so busy (ugh) and even then, I only got this chapter, which is sort of a filler chapter done. Don't lose faith though! The best is yet to come!**

**Q: What should Emma's and Killian's Storybrooke names be? I was thinking of keeping them the same, but changing the last names.**

"David!" Snow called excitedly.

"Hold on a second Eric," David said to his friend. "Yeah Snow?" He shot his wife a quizzical look. She answered with a huge grin, which only made him even more confused. Snow reached both her hands up, cupping her husband's cheeks. Gently, she turned his head ever so slightly, just so Emma and Killian were in his view.

"Do you see it?" She whispered, smirking at the awed look on her husband's face.

"How can I not? It's amazing," he answered. As a matter of fact, every guest to the ball was staring at the couple, and what a sight it was. They radiated light, literally. The silvery light pulsed, and with each pulse, a gentle breeze blew across the room, though Emma and Killian were none the wiser. They danced like they were one, they're feet barely touching the ground. They danced like they were meant to be.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

**In The Dungeon**

Regina looked up from her hands, a smirk spreading across her face.

"Well," she cackled, "It's finally time. Thank the Gods, I didn't think they'd ever figure it out!"

**The Next Morning**

Emma awoke early the next morning, well rested, and refreshed, after the best sleep she had experienced in a long time. Gradually, she became aware of a body pressed up against her back, and arms wrapped around her midsection. Carefully, she turned to look at the offender, heaving a sigh of relief when she realized who it was.

"Morning love," he whispered, trailing his fingers idly up and down her spine.

"Good morning Killian," she responded, a smile gracing her lips. That smile slowly dissolved though, as she took in Killian's shirtless appearance, and her own state of half undress.

"Oh Gods, Killian tell me we didn't—"she started before he interrupted her.

"Why Princess! You know I am nothing less than a gentleman!" he scoffed, attempting to look offended. Emma let out another sigh of relief, before settling into his body, fitting like a missing piece of a puzzle.

"I know," she mumbled, closing her eyes again.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

It wasn't until several hours later that Emma awoke to Killian shaking her gently.

"Come on Swan, we have to get up," he whispered, moving to sit up against a pillow.

"Ugh," she groaned, rolling over, almost on top of him. "Five more minutes." Killian chuckled, rolling her back over carefully.

"It's already noon lass, I believe we both have business to attend to before the day is out," he reminded her. Suddenly, it all came back to her. The betrothal, the threat of war, and Killian's business with the navy, all of it. Another groan escaped her lips, but she sat up, rubbing her fingers against her temples.

"Shit," she muttered. Killian gave a nervous laugh, and Emma looked over at him curiously. He glanced back at her, but he was avoiding her eyes.

"Killian?" she asked.

"It's okay you know," he said softly, pulling his shirt over his broad shoulders, but not buttoning it. His answer only served to confuse Emma even more.

"What are you talking abo—Killian Edward Jones!" She yelled, as his meaning dawned on her. "After our conversation last night, did you really expect me not to call off the betrothal?" Killian suddenly seemed to find his feet very interesting.

"Uh—I—uh" he attempted to form coherent words, but failed, distracted by her anger… among other things. Emma sighed, exasperatedly. She waltzed across the room, and pressed her body against his, bringing herself nose to nose with him.

"You sir, are an idiot," she stated, before she pressed her lips to his. This kiss was less frantic then they're first one, but just as passionate, and just as full of love. He swiped his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she complied, opening her mouth ever so slightly. They fought for dominance, neither over powering the other. Out of nowhere, a flash of pain struck Killian, forcing him to pull away, clutching at his head.

"Killian," Emma said, her voice slightly panicked. He groaned.

_Two people, from different vines_

_Cross paths, their destinies intertwined_

Another pulse of pain radiated through Killian's skull. He moaned, his eyes tearing up, and his vision blurring.

"Killian!" Emma cried, not even trying to hide the fear in her voice. "Killian say something!" He tried to look up at her, but the dizziness over whelmed him, and he couldn't see her anyway, for his world was spinning.

_One, a girl, born of true love_

_A boy born at sea, his heart from thereof_

"Help!" he heard her call. "Anyone! Please!" his already blurred vision darkened around the edges. A pained cry escaped his lips.

"Killian," she whispered urgently, grabbing hold of his hand. "Killian you have to be okay." _I can't lose him. _ Urgent footsteps thundered down the hall. The door to the princess' room was thrown open, and guards poured in.

_A wandering soul_

_And a brave one_

_Destined to be together_

_But forever apart_

_Separated by tragedy,_

_Though they are two parts of the same heart._

Her voice whispering his name, was the last thing he heard, before everything went black.

**AUTHORS NOTE: I know it's not the whole prophecy, and I wish I could've put a whole more action in this chapter, but it seemed like it wanted to end here, so I did. Again, sorry for the delay!**


	15. Chapter 15

She refused to leave him, no matter what anyone said to her. She sat by his bedside for days, holding his hand, not moving for anything, except to relieve herself. She took her meals there, she refused her lessons, she refused everything, except the necessities. _If he can't have it than neither shall I_.

He looked thin, so very thin. The only sign that he was alive, was the shallow rise and fall of his chest, and the facial hair that thickened with each passing day. Today, Liam sat beside her, his head in his hands, waiting, just like she was. They were waiting for something, anything to happen, and hoping their worst fears wouldn't be realized, hoping, that he would wake up. _He can't die, I need him. He can't die. He can't die…_

Liam stood up, pacing the room, running his hand through his curly brown hair angrily. _I can't lose him, he's the only family I have left. He's my brother!_ In a fit of rage, he brought his fist back, and pounded it against the wall over and over again, tears streaming down his face. Guards came running to restrain him, but Emma sent them away, letting Liam continue to try to fight a fight he couldn't win. When he had finally burnt out all his energy, he sat down next to the princess, and sobbed, his body shaking, his cries echoing around the room. She sat there, a strong, sturdy pillar that others leaned on, for she had no more tears to cry for him, she had only her determination, and her will to live, to make him live. She took Liam's hand in her free one, and the magic ran through her, and into Liam, mending the bones properly, and fixing the broken skin. She then sent him away, and he went quietly, knowing that there was nothing he could do for his brother. Emma continued her quest, watching over Killian, until night fell. Then, and only then, did she allow herself to fall into the loving embrace of sweet, sweet sleep, however brief it was. As always, she dreamed of him.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Killian felt like he was floating, but he was too tired to open his eyes. The darkness was all consuming, and all too familiar.

"Ah I just knew you couldn't stay away!" a voice, all too similar to his own called gleefully. Killian groaned, and opened his eyes, slowly, as to not jostle his head too much.

"You've got to be kidding me," Killian moaned, as memories came rushing back to him.

"Ah I see you remember," Death said, a smirk plastered on his face. "It's been a while Killian."

"Not long enough," Killian shot back angrily. "Why am I here?" Death's laugh echoed all around him.

"So many questions Killian, but none are the right ones!" Death chuckled. "You're a smart lad Killian, figure it out." Killian groaned again, massaging his temples with his fingers. He lifted his head slowly, as to not bring on another bout of dizziness. His eyes raked over his surroundings, before settling on Death himself, widening at the sight.

"You look different, but not different…" Killian mumbled, struggling to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Come on lad almost there." Death encouraged.

"Why do you look different?" Killian finally managed, the effort very nearly exhausting him.

"Bravo!" Death shouted, clapping his hands together, and by an extent, making Killian's head throb. "That's the right question!"

"Well," Killian said shortly. "Care to explain then?" Death's laugh echoed all around them, making Killian's head pound. He fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands. Death's laugh halted, and he shot an annoyed glare at Killian, his irritation rolling off him in waves.

"Oh do get up you poor sod," he snapped. "You'll face much worse in the future. Toughen up will you?" A painful gasp escaped Killian's lips, but he heeded Death's request, struggling to his feet, holding his head high.

"Good job Killy!" Death exclaimed. Killian glared at him.

"Don't call me that," he spat.

"Oh feisty are we," Death smirked. "Now I'm sure you're getting impatient, so why don't I explain."

"Please," Killian interjected. Death ignored his interruption, choosing to continue with his speech.

"Well my dear Killian, I haven't changed at all, but I suppose I do look quite different. I'm more, how would you say, solid, more real. This future," he said, gesturing to himself, "Is no longer just a possibility, it's a reality." Death finished dramatically. Killian's mouth dropped open slightly.

"I'm going to lose my hand?" he asked softly.

"Oh and so much more Killian," Death answered. "So much more."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Weeks passed, and still, the young lieutenant didn't wake. The princess sat by his bedside, holding his hand all the while, summoning up every ounce of magic she had, to bring him back to them. But it was no use. Whatever was happening to him, was brought on by a magic that was much more powerful than that which she possessed at the time. She was visited every day by her parents, her brothers, and Liam. Her family tried to get her to let go, to let him go, but they wouldn't. She grew angry with them, a deep resentment settled into the pit of her stomach, and she just couldn't seem to make it go away. She relished the time when it was just her and Killian, and maybe Liam. She hated the periodic visits from her family.

"Emma," Snow said gently, her hand on her daughters shoulder. Before she could get another word in, the princess' head shot up, her blood shot eyes filled with pent up anger.

"What Mother?" Emma spat, her voice dripping with rage. "Do you want to tell me AGAIN how useless me waiting for him is? You want to ask me to let him go is that it? You want me to lose my chance at a happy ending?" Snow White was shocked, her daughter's ferocity rendering her speechless.

"Because I won't let him die! I am going to stay right here, and there is nothing you can do about it. Now LEAVE!" she screamed at the poor woman. She mustered up a fair amount of magic, lifting her mother from her chair, and depositing her in the hallway outside of the room. With a wave of her hand, the door slammed shut, and was barred from the inside. Only Liam came to visit her after that.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"Why am I still here Death? Is that all you needed to tell me?" Killian asked finally, after a period of deafening silence.

"Please Killian, I think we've known each other long enough that you can call me by a more personal name. Call me Donn, or Osiris, or even Hades."

"Alright _Donn_, why am I still here?" Killian said, his tone cynical.

"Well my dear boy, you are still here because you are bordering on death," Donn said plainly. Killian laughed dryly.

"Thank you for a blinding flash of the obvious." He snapped, "But why am I still bordering on death? What more do you have to tell me. There's always something."

"Oh my dear boy, I'm simply deciding if you're lucky enough to be let go a second time!" Death said as if it were obvious. Killian glared at him, anger sparking in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Killian asked, trying to control his temper. Donn tapped his chin, seemingly appearing to be deep in thought, though Killian knew better. "Well come on then! Spit it out!"

"Oh alright," Death sighed. "You're no fun." Killian gestured for Death to continue. Donn cleared his throat.

"Well you see, if I decide to keep you, then not only will I gain, the brave soul, but I will sure enough gain the wandering one. But the problem is, the fates wouldn't let me put both of you in the fields of Elysium, so one of you would be doomed to eternal torture, until it's time to try again. And that's a problem for me because I know you would insist that I doom you to eternal torture instead of her, but I really am quite fond of you," Death mused. "But if I let you go, then I run the risk of giving myself a bad reputation!" Killian took a deep breath, racking his brain for a way out of this situation.

"And we can't have that," Killian said quietly. "Wait, the wandering soul?" Death looked at the man like he was lacking in the brains department.

"Yes you know, the wandering soul, the answer to the prophecy. Your dear princess!" he said, as if it was obvious. Killian's breath quickened at his answer, his brain frantically searching for a way to outsmart Death himself, a way to save him, and by an extent, Emma. Then it came to him.

"But Donn," Killian started. "You said that this future," he continued, gesturing to Death with his hand nonchalantly. "You said that this future is a reality. You lead me to believe that there's no way around it." Death stared at the man, a grin blossoming across his handsome face.

"I knew you were smart Killian," he stated proudly. "I do have to tell you something before you go, and you may not remember it completely."

"Well that's a shock," Killian said sarcastically. Death just ignored him, pacing the area around him, with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Well, only you know about the prophecy, and even then, you will only remember half of it when you return. It will keep coming back to you though, in times that you are close to seeing me again. And be warned, I will not let you go a third time, no matter how the future is written," Death said, his eyes flashing with something indistinguishable. "Anyhoo, you need to tell Emma, and her family. They have to know. You have to tell them about the dreams too. It's important for your future together." Killian smirked.

"Are you giving me advice on woman Donn?" Killian chuckled. Death turned to him menacingly, his eyes reflecting fire, though there wasn't one.

"DON'T MAKE LIGHT OF THIS KILLIAN! IT'S NOT JUST YOUR HAPPINESS AT STAKE! IT'S THAT OF THE UNIVERSE!" Death shouted, his face growing rosy, his ears turning red. Killian, surprised at the sudden change in Death's usually cool demeanor, could only nod his head.

"Very well," Donn said, quickly returning to his usual self. "I suppose it's time to send you back."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Liam was visiting her today, and his mood was cloudy, more so than what had become normal since Killian had fallen ill. They sat together in silence, her like a statue, him fidgeting like a child hyped up on sugar. Suddenly, he jumped up from his chair, briskly pacing around the room, raking his hands through his curly, unkempt locks. He turned to her, his face twisted with something akin to anger, mixed in with a look of pain.

"It's always him! He never did anything to deserve any of this, but they always punish him!" Liam screamed, not sure who he was really yelling at. "And I can't do anything for him Emma! I don't have pixie dust or fucking magical powers! But you do! And yet you sit here beside him day after day, wallowing in self-pity! Do something! Can't you see that he's dying?" If looks could kill, Liam would've been dead in second. The way Emma was looking at him, struck fear into his heart, and he cowered at the sight. Slowly, she stood, placing Killian's hand gently on the bed next to his body, before turning to face Liam.

"You think I haven't done all I can do?" Emma asked calmly. Too calmly. Not giving Liam a chance to answer, she continued. "You really believe that I would just let him remain like this?" Her voice was raising in pitch, as well as volume now. "I don't have the power to do anything Liam! I can't heal this! I can't bring him back, and I've tried God dammnit! You don't have the right," she went on, her voice wavering, as the tears that she hadn't cried for him in a month threatened to make a reappearance. She blinked them back, returning her stormy gaze to Liam. "I can't believe you!"

"Well what am I supposed to think Emma?" Liam shot back, finding his voice again. Before she could really give the man a piece of her mind, the creak of Killian's bed distracted her. He groaned, moving his hand up to his forehead.

"Oi I know I'm great and all, but do you really have to argue over me? I have quite the headache, and a story you'll never believe." He said, his voice hoarse with disuse. Emma covered her mouth, the tears spilling over. Liam's reaction was much the same.

"What did I render you all speechless?" Killian asked, looking up at his brother, and his Princess. It was Liam that spoke first.

"Aye brother, you did. Do you know how long you've been out?" Liam asked.

"Long enough to be busting to piss, but dying of thirst at the same time." Killian responded. "You haven't got a glass of water or a chamber pot on you by chance?" Liam shook his head.

"It's been almost two months Killian," Emma whispered, loud enough that only Killian could hear her. Killian eyed her warily, before turning to his brother again.

"Liam, why don't you go find me that chamber pot?" Killian suggested, giving his brother a pointed look. Taking the hint, Liam scurried out of the room.

"Emma," Killian whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He reached his hand up to pull her down to him, but she moved away.

"You promised Killian. You promised you wouldn't leave," she was sobbing now, her body shaking, the pent up emotion pouring out of her.

"Emma," he said again, his voice firmer this time. "I didn't leave on my own accord. And lass, you better bloody believe, I fought like hell to get back to you." The princess, _his_ princess, finally looked him in the eye, her emerald green ones, meeting his sapphire blue ones. He pulled her towards him, and his lips embraced hers like they had been practicing for it in the weeks he was asleep.

**AUTHORS NOTE: More will be happening with the plot in the next chapter, as requested. I'll warn you now, THE CURSE WILL BE CAST NEXT CHAPTER.**

**Donn: According to Irish/Celtic mythology, lord of the dead.**

**Osiris: According to Egyptian mythology, lord of the underworld.**

**Hades: According to Greek mythology, lord of the underworld**


	16. Chapter 16

**TRIGGER WARNING!: If you are easily triggered, than you may not want to read the marked off section in this chapter. It will be marked off by the usual divider (Ya know, the KEKEKEKE) but the letters will be bolded.**

"Well Killian," Snow White started to say, "You must have quite a story to tell." Killian sighed deeply, as everyone held their breath.

"Well, you could say, that I met death, and it wasn't for the first time." Killian said finally, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" Neal asked eagerly, his interest piqued.

"Well, you were too young to remember lad, but when Liam and I first arrived at the palace, I was in pretty bad shape." Killian replied.

"Yeah but Emma healed you," Liam finished for him.

"Well, it wasn't immediately," Emma added shyly. Killian smirked slightly at her embarrassment, but he understood. It wasn't a day any of them remembered fondly.

"Well in the moments when she was figuring out her magic, because she was just four years old mind you, I had a conversation with Death himself. He told me of a prophecy, and gave me a decision." Killian continued.

"Well what was the choice?" David cut in, his voice almost as eager as Neal's. Snow grimaced at her husband's childishness, but no one else seemed to catch it.

"Stay or go," Killian said simply. Liam visibly cringed at this remark, as did Emma, and Killian ached to comfort them both, but this was not the time. Plus, there was no way they were letting him out of bed for at least a day.

"Well we know your decision, but what I don't understand is why you didn't tell us about this sooner." Snow said.

"I didn't remember. I couldn't, because Death took away my memories. That little episode that Emma witnessed? That was his way of calling me back, to give me back my memories from the first time I met him. And on top of that, I only remember bits and pieces of this second time." Killian clarified.

"Well do enlighten us brother," Liam encouraged. Killian shot a look at Neal and Leo, furrowing his brow.

"I don't know that this is something that the younger ears should hear," He informed them. Without hesitation, the monarchs sent the two princes out of the room, much to their chagrin. Neal complained loudly, claiming that he was old enough. Leo, ever the obedient child, grabbed his brother by the hand, which immediately shut Neal up. Leo dragged him out of the room, much to the amusement of the older party.

"Well," Killian continued, once they were gone. "It seems that there is a prophecy, concerning Emma and me. Unfortunately, seem to only remember half, due to Donn's meddling."

"Donn?" Emma inquired. Killian shot her a tired look.

"Trust me, you do not want to know," He answered.

"The prophecy Killian," David reminded him.

"Well, the prophecy, the parts which I remember, go a little like this." Killian took a deep breath. " Two people, from different vines, cross paths, their destinies intertwined. One, a girl, born of true love. A boy born at sea, his heart from thereof. A wandering soul, and a brave one. Destined to be together, but forever apart. Separated by tragedy, though they are two parts of the same heart." As he finished, he looked around the room, surveying the reactions of the people around him. His brother, looked deep in thought, for he was always the more scholarly one, figuring out hard problems and such. Snow White looked stricken by this sudden turn of events, and David had a surprised, but determined look on his face. Turning to Emma, he wasn't surprised to find that she was trying hard to mask her emotions. But Killian could read right through her façade. He saw, plain, blatant fear in her eyes, but the way her jaw was set, mirrored the look of determination on her father's face. After another bout of long silence, Emma opened her mouth.

"Killian, the dreams we've been having aren't dreams at all. They're memories."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

After deciding to save further discussion for the morning, the royals parted ways with the Joneses, giving Liam some much needed alone time with his brother.

"Emma!" Snow called after her daughter, who was walking towards her room, and was looking forward to a full night of sleep in her own bed. Emma stopped in the hall, giving her mother a chance to catch up.

"It won't be long," Snow added breathlessly, a dazzling grin on her face. "I was just wondering, if you'd like to cancel your marriage agreement with Baelfire." Emma's face fell immediately, the weight of her decision coming down on her shoulders. Snow, confused by her daughter's reaction, rambled on. "Well if you don't want to, that's fine. I just thought—"Emma cut her off abruptly.

"No I want to. I just—I want to tell him myself," Emma said warily, the last few weeks finally catching up to her. Snow's grin faltered slightly.

"You're sure?" she pondered. Emma nodded.

"Okay. Before or after your birthday?" she asked. Emma heaved a sigh.

"After. It's not like he'll come anyway." Emma muttered as an afterthought. Abruptly, she left turned on her heel, a move she'd stolen from Killian, and continued down the hall, disappearing into her room.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

**The Seventeenth Year**

She descended the stairs to the ball in honor of her seventeenth birthday, not on her brother's arm, but on Killian's. She danced with her father, and each of her brothers in turn, but she only had eyes for Killian. He waited patiently for his turn, dodging many potential suitors in the process. When she finally made her way over to him, she was very near exhaustion.

"Let's find you some food princess, that way we can replenish your energy." He suggested. She nodded her approval, taking his hand, letting him lead her to the refreshments. She ate greedily, earning a laugh from Killian, and a glare from the people around her, but she didn't care. For the first time in a long time, she was actually enjoying herself at one of these parties, and she wanted to make it last. She laughed with him, as they made little jabs at Liam, and princess Melody.

"You obviously are in love brother, ask for her hand in marriage already!" Killian exclaimed, after pulling his brother aside.

"If he doesn't ask to court you Melody, why don't you ask to court him?" Emma suggested to her bewildered friend, smirking slightly as she saw Killian trying to get through to Liam out of the corner of her eye. As Killian dragged Liam back towards the girls, she shoved Melody towards her equally bewildered counterpart, laughing gleefully as she quickly grabbed Killian's left hand, dragging him away. They continued their night of fun, dancing almost every dance together, stuffing their faces, and all in all having the time of their lives. That is, until they were rudely interrupted by a tall man, with close cropped hair, but curly hair, tanned skin, and brown eyes. It was Emma who recognized him first.

"Baelfire," she exclaimed, startled by his appearance.

"Happy birthday Em," he said, pulling her in for a quick hug. Killian growled, expressing his feelings towards the display, earning a glare from Baelfire, and a pleading glare from Emma, who was mentally trying to tell him to keep his mouth shut. Baelfire pulled away, swooping in for a kiss, only to be pushed away by the Princess. At the sight of his confused expression, she sighed, something that she seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

"Baelfire, we need to talk."

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

Emma led her formerly betrothed out into the gardens, where they had spent so much time as children.

"I hadn't thought that I would have to be doing this so soon," Emma started, ignoring the ever growing confusion that Baelfire was displaying. She started in on her little speech, explaining the turn of events, and the reasons that she couldn't marry him.

"… and I hope you can find love, and find happiness Bae, I really do. Just, not with me," she finished, looking into his eyes, waiting for him to absorb her words. She could tell it was happening, when his eyes darkened, and his face contorted in rage. He clenched his fists, his body trembling. Emma backed away, but it wasn't soon enough. He lunged at her, grabbing her wrists, and pinning them above her head, against the wall. She tried to twist out of his grip, but he was just too strong.

"You—you slut!" he yelled, not caring who heard. He slapped her across the face. "You just go around opening your legs for anyone who offers you a smile don't you? Don't you?" he pushed her wrists harder against the wall, moving his free hand up to her neck. Emma whimpered, trying again to free herself. This wasn't the boy she knew. This man was twisted, cruel. She was afraid to make a sound.

"Yeah I bet you like it rough." He taunted, applying slight pressure to her throat, making her gasp. He released it though, letting her breath, choosing to move his hand lower. "Where's your sailor now huh?" Emma could smell the alcohol on his breath. She struggled harder. "Balls deep in a God damn princess, and he can't be bothered to protect her? WHERE IS HE?" he yelled. When Killian didn't appear, he continued to rant. "He's a coward. He's not coming Emma. You're mine."

"Think again mate," a voice from behind him growled. Suddenly, Baelfire was on the ground, a shadow straddling him, a fist colliding with his face again and again. Emma slid down the wall, and collapsed in a heap on the ground, wishing that she could close her eyes, and it would all be over. The sound of flesh on flesh finally stopped, and she felt hands cradle her gently, and she struggled to escape them, trying to protect herself. The hands held her more firmly, and a soothing voice whispered in her ear.

"It's okay Emma, it's me. It's just me. Everything's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay." Killian said over and over again, lifting her, holding her against him. He repeated it like a prayer, carrying the shuddering body of the woman he loved to safety.

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

"What happened?" the voice whispered urgently.

"He attacked her when she told him she couldn't marry him," another voice joined the mix. She relaxed instantly upon hearing it, the tension in her body easing.

"Where is he?" another voice growled, this one angry. The calming voice jumped into the conversation again.

"I took care of it. He won't be coming around here again."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

**The Seventeenth Year, and Six Months**

It was in one of their weaker moments when it finally happened. It was inevitable though. He'd been dancing around it for months, trying not to push her after what happened with Baelfire.

They were embracing in Emma's room, after finally hearing of Killian and Liam's next assignment. They would leave in the morning, on an emergency voyage to the outskirts of the kingdom, to aid with fighting a lose ogre that happened to be tormenting the villages, and they had no idea how long he would be gone. The embrace started out innocent enough, but soon blossomed into much more. Kissing passionately, her back up against the wall, she suddenly broke the kiss, leading him to the bed.

"Emma," Killian warned, only to be quieted by her lips meeting his once again. Instinct triumphed over everything else, and he pushed her onto the bed gently, his mouth never leaving hers. Soon enough, they were both shirtless, and working on undressing completely. He took this moment to confirm their actions. He pulled away, looking deep into her eyes, searching for anything to deter him, and finding nothing.

"Are you sure?" he asked, just to be sure himself.

"Yes," she replied breathlessly. And after that statement, everything just fell into place.

**The Seventeenth Year, and Nine Months.**

She couldn't be sure, she shouldn't be, but she hadn't bled in three months. She hadn't bled since that night… no she couldn't think about it right now. She was constantly sick in the mornings, and her stomach was already firmer. She shouldn't be sure, but she was. She could feel it.

"Well shit."

**The Seventeenth Year, and Eleven Months**

This couldn't be happening. It simply was not possible. He closed his eyes, rubbed them, and opened them again, but the man was still there, hovering above deck.

"Ahoy maties!" he cackled in a voice Killian couldn't soon forget.

"Rumplestitleskin," Killian growled, just as Liam shouted the same name.

"What do you want imp?" Liam spat, for there was no love for the man on this ship, or any other for that matter. Rumplestitleskin cackled again, raising a crooked finger, and pointing at Killian.

"Him."

**Back at the Castle**

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Her gut clenched, and not because of the baby. Killian. She had to get to Killian. She stood up as quickly as she could, and focused on her sailor. But as soon, as she enacted the magic, a sharp pain shot through her. She collapsed in the nearest chair, panting. Her magic wouldn't work. She couldn't get to him.

**In The Dungeon**

Regina stood up, massaged her hands, and then proceeded to crack her fingers, and her back. She paced the room, stretching her legs, getting the blood flowing again. It was time.

**On The Jewel of the Realm**

"You want him, you'll have to go through me," Liam snarled, standing protectively in front of his brother. Rumplestitleskin, stuck his nose up in the air slightly, sizing up the man standing in his way.

"I can do that," he dead panned. It all happened so quickly. With a puff of smoke, a sword appeared in the imp's hand. In a flash, that sword was sticking out of Liam's back. Rumplestitleskin cackled again, and with a grin on his face, he twisted the sword, tearing at the flesh.

"No!" Killian screamed, lunging forward. Rumplestitleskin only cackled more, the noise becoming higher in volume, and pitch. With another swift swipe of is blade, excruciating pain shoots through Killian's left arm, and something hits the deck with a sickening thud.

"Oh dear, seems you need a hand!" Rumplestitleskin sniggers, taunting the poor man. "That's too bad." And with that, the imp is gone, but so is the hand that once belonged to Killian Jones. Adrenaline still coursing through him, he ignores the pain, rushing to his brother, and kneeling by his side. He props the man's head on his lap, wracking his brain for anything that he can do to help, anything at all.

"No Liam, you're going to be okay." Killian says stubbornly, as Liam takes a weak breath.

"Killian," Liam gasps. "Promise me you'll be the man you want to be. Promise me you'll be good, and kind, and courteous." Killian sets his jaw stubbornly.

"No Liam don't talk like that you're going to be fine." He whispers, his eyes filling with tears.

"Promise me," Liam manages to gasp out, his voice weak. Killian feels the tears spill over to his cheeks, and he looks into his brothers eyes, watching the light leave them.

"I promise," he chokes out.

**At the Castle**

The nervousness she feels is almost unbearable. She paces the room, trying to figure out what to do. Her parents are visiting Eric and Ariel, so they can't help. Graham is with them. She doesn't trust anybody else enough to confide in them what she thinks is going on. Suddenly, she hears a pop, and spins around, only to find Baelfire's father, Rumplestitleskin standing in the center of her room, with his hands behind his back.

"A present for the baby your highness," he says mockingly, dropping the parcel on the bed. He's gone in another puff of smoke. Emma makes her way over to the bed, and unwraps the parcel, though there's a little voice in her head screaming at her to stop. When the last bit of cloth is removed, Emma drops the hand in shock. The hand that she knows so well. The hand that is undeniably Killian's. Before the pregnancy, she never had a weak stomach, but now, at the sight of her lover's hand, she wretches uncontrollably, and sobs at the same time, worrying that her worst fears have been realized.

**In the Dungeon**

"Oh Rumple," Regina sighs. "You've always had such a flare for the dramatics. With a wave of her hand, the door to the cell that has confined her for so long flies open. She storms up the stairs, knocking the door at the top off its hinges. She storms out of the castle, and out of the gate, followed closely by a cloud of purple smoke. The cloud expands, and engulfs everything in its path.


	17. Chapter 17

**TRIGGER WARNING: From here on out, situations that written into the story that deal with abuse, or other things along those lines, will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKE. **

Emma bolted upright in the bed she shared with her fiancé, panting, a cold sweat blanketing her skin. She tries to recall the nightmare that she so suddenly woke from, but the only image that she can conjure up in her head is one of piercing blue eyes, and a ship. She hears a groan from beside her, and feels the bed shift.

"Emma, go back to sleep. That, or stop thrashing," Neal's voice, gruff with sleep ordered. With a sigh, she eases herself back down, and closes her eyes, resting her hands on her swollen belly.

**In The Storybrooke Hospital**

"Someone page Doctor Whale! And hurry! He's lost a lot of blood!" a young nurse calls, running with the paramedics pushing the man on the stretcher. She's never seen anything quite like his injury. Along with some small cuts, and a few minor bruises, his hand is missing. The cut is clean, like it's been sliced off with an extremely sharp knife, or maybe a sword. She shook her head, trying to clear the notion from her thoughts. _A boating accident,_ she thought_. They found him at the marina. It was a boating accident. _The man kept mumbling something, over and over again. It sounded a lot like, _The fates continue to try to unite them._ She shook her head. Not only was he about to bleed out, but he was delirious. How perfect.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

**Five Years Later. Time Passed in Storybrooke: None**

Emma Swan meandered down Main Street, looking in every window, but not really looking for anything. Neal had kicked her out of the house again, and she'd left willingly, making noise about taking the kid, and never coming back. They both knew she would. For her safety, and that of her unborn child, she had to. But he needed time to cool down, and she needed time away from him. So she walked, not really going anywhere, but going all the same. She passed The Rabbit Hole, ignoring the leering stares of the men whom frequent its dark, worn down bar. She heard fast paced footsteps, trotting up behind her. She had just reached for the pepper spray she kept in her purse, when the sirens of the town's one police car blared, the light's flashing in the corner of her eye. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and nodded to the man in the front seat. He touched his fingers to his brow in response. But what really caught her eye, was the man in the back seat, his hands, or hand and—a hook?-cuffed together in front of him. He shot her a knowing smirk, making a blush rise in her cheeks._ What the hell Emma, you don't blush._ She turned away quickly, but not before his strangely familiar eyes met hers. They were blue. The color of the ocean on a calm day. She kept walking.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"Oi Humbert ole' pal you just can't resist playing the knight in shining armor can you?" Killian sneered at the man, who was very obviously pining after the pregnant woman with golden hair and beautiful emerald eyes that reminded him of—_Stop it Killian. You don't even know who she is. You wouldn't be good for her anyway. _

"It's Sherriff to you Jones," Graham growled, his hands tightening around the steering wheel.

"Aren't you in with Regina anyway _Sherriff?_" Killian mocked as Graham pulled the car into the station parking lot. With a huff, he exited the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. Killian smirked as the incredibly pissed off man threw open the door to the backseat, roughly grabbing him by the elbow, and the shoulder, yanking him out of the car. His smirk was soon replaced by a grimace of pain as Graham slammed him against the side of the vehicle, resituating the cuffs so his hand and his "glamorous accessory" as he so fondly called it, were restrained behind him, the band of metal encircling his remaining appendage, just tight enough to be painful.

"I'm sorry Jones, I couldn't hear you over the sound of me locking your ass in jail, _again_," Graham spat. A mischievous grin graced Killian's features.

"Oh that's okay, I was just talking about you goading after the poor pregnant girl when you're probably about ten years older than her and ball deep in—"

"Madame Mayor what a surprise!" Graham interrupted, his tone polite, his voice a little louder than it would've been in a comfortable situation. Ignoring the prisoner, the mayor pulled Graham into his office for a little "chat". Killian shuddered involuntarily. Soon enough though, thoughts of the girl he had seen on the street today distracted him from the Sherriff and the Mayor's activities. She had been so familiar, the sight of her almost comforting. He knew he had seen her around, but he just couldn't place her. She seemed, different than everybody else in this God forsaken town. She wasn't happy-go-lucky nothing's wrong with my life or the people in it. She was, real. His mind drifted to the way her shoulder's hunched in, the long sleeve blouse she wore in the middle of August, and the slight discoloration of her face, that could've been mistaken for a shoddy makeup job. It may have fooled everybody else, or maybe they just refused to see what was really there, but Killian knew better. It was actually a pretty damn good makeup job, but underneath it laid this girl's dark, maybe even dangerous secrets. He was interested, to say the least. She was just, so lost. She reminded him of himself, and something, deep down inside of him, made him want to save her. _You're not a hero Killian_, he thought to himself. _You're a worthless drunk with no money, no home, and no friends._ But then another though occurred to him. _If I can save her, then I can save myself._ As soon as he made his decision to seek the girl out, the hands of the clock tower started to move.

**Time Passed In Storybrooke: 57 seconds.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AUTHORS NOTE: Just to clear up any confusion, Emma's fiancé is not her brother. TRIGGER WARNING: Any sensitive situations will be marked off with bolded KEKEKEKEKE**

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE**

After her peculiar encounter with the Sherriff, and the odd man who was quite obviously, on the other side of the law, Emma knew it was time to head home, like it or not. It was a small town that they lived in, so Neal would surely hear about the incident sooner rather than later. She'd rather be the one that told him.

He'd been careful lately, trying hard not to push her around too much, to avoid hurting the baby. He'd resorted, to other means, of reminding her of her place lately. The abuse hurt, but when you've been in and out of foster homes all of your life, it became the only thing you knew. She walked in the front door, only to find the man in question sitting at the kitchen table, calmly. Way too calmly. Her heart beat quickened as she took in the sight of him, and not in a good way. His hair was slightly disheveled, his bloodshot eyes had a wild look in them. He had a drink in his hand.

"Emma," he acknowledged, his voice sending chills down her back. "Sit." She didn't even think once before complying, dropping her bag and taking the seat across from him. "Not there." Fighting the urge to run, to hit him, to scream for help, she obeyed again, obediently kneeling on the floor beside his chair, ignoring the discomfort and stretch in her belly, or the strain it put on her back. Neal took a took a swig from his drink, before slamming it down on the table, which would've been the only clue to an outside observer that he wasn't as unruffled as he was pretending to be. Emma cringed at the sound.

"So I heard something happened in town today," Neal began, looking down his nose at the girl at his feet.

"Neal, it—it was nothing I sw—" Emma started to say, before she was silenced by a sharp backhanded slap from her fiancé.

"Don't pretend that you didn't enjoy it," he growled. "A slut like you, you like them looking at you don't you?" Emma didn't reply, her gaze fixed on the ground, as he hit her again. "ANSWER ME!" he yelled.

"I don't," she whimpered, but Neal wasn't having any of it. He hit her across the face one last time, this time, his fingers curled into a fist. The sheer force of the blow knocked her to the ground, but he wasn't done. He grabbed her wrist, and dragged her across the floor, towards their old, broken down radiator. He released his grip on her hand, if only for a second, and went to retrieve a pair of handcuffs from his bedside table. Emma tried to sit up, but he was already back, twisting her arm violently, and snapping the handcuffs into place, tightening them enough to leave marks.

"They only look at you like that because of the way you dress Em." Neal chastised, looking over Emma's Bermuda shorts, and loose tee from the maternity department at the local department store. "You need to learn your lesson. So you'll be spending the night here. And remember," he leaned his face close to her, the alcohol on his breath making her feel sick. "You. Are. Mine." And with that, he stood up, casually brushed himself off, and went about his nightly routine of watching the news, and late night TV, before ushering himself off to bed.

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

He walked out of the cell bright and early the next morning, offering a dazzling smile to Sherriff Graham.

"I'll be collecting my belongings now Humbert," Killian supplied, trotting over to the discharge desk, like he had done a million times before.

"Sherriff," Graham corrected with a growl, following him, a scowl adorning his handsome features. Killian just chuckled. It was all the same as the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that. It was like the whole damn town was stuck in a loop, but Killian couldn't be troubled with it.

"I know you did it Jones," Graham's scowl deepened. _Well,_ Killian thought. _That's new._

"The evidence clearly shows Humby, that I am not your man." _Humby? Where did that come from? Oh well, it suits him. _The clear anger on Graham's face only added to Killian's pleasure. Finally! Something was different!

"Get out," the Sherriff snarled. Killian took off without another word.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

He didn't see the golden haired girl at all that day, or the day after that, and as much as he willed it not to, it troubled him. He kept his eyes peeled, but he kept coming up empty. If only he could find her address, well, her name might be good. Finally, as he was making his way to the Rabbit Hole, on the afternoon of the second day, he caught sight of a flash of gold in the hospital parking lot. He turned, glimpsing the girl he was searching for being dragged into the hospital by a grungy looking man, if he could even be considered one, for he still had spots, and it seemed his shoulders had yet to fill out, with brown curly hair, and tanned, almost olive skin. Her pretty face was dotted with fresh spots of black, blue, and purple, mixed in with some yellowish discoloration from healing bruises. Her arm was bent at an awkward angle, and she walked with a limp. Killian's heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her. He could tell, no matter how bad she appeared on the outside, the worst of her wounds laid much deeper. _But how deep am I willing to go?_

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"Well Miss Swan, it looks like the baby's fine. You on the other hand, are a little worse for wear. You have severe bruising on your face, you suffered a compound fracture in your arm, and your wrists are rubbed raw, on top of also being severely bruised. How in the world did you manage to do that?" The doctor—What was his name? Oh that's right, Whale. – Doctor Whale asked.

"I fell," Emma replied meekly, earning a pat on the shoulder from Neal that made her visibly cringe. She looked up at the doctor, praying to any God that was out there that he didn't notice, but she'd always been good at reading people.

"Uh Mr. Cassidy, why don't we have Nurse Schoomahker escort you to the front desk to fill out the paper work, while I get everything in order with your fiancé here," the doctor suggested, his tone wary. Neal, oblivious to the doctor's ulterior motives, complied dubiously, following the nurse without a second thought.

"Emma," the doctor started, looking at the poor girl in front of him. "How did your wrists get like they are?" Emma wracked her brain, as she gnawed on her lip nervously.

"I—uh—I rub them. It's a bad habit, I just can't break," she responded pleasantly.

"Emma, I'm about to ask you a really difficult question, but I need you to be honest okay?" the doctor asked, speaking to her like she was a child.

"Okay," she breathed out, twitching her hands absentmindedly.

"Neal," the doctor started. "Does he—does he hit you?" Emma shook her head a little too quickly.

"No," she stated matter of factly.

"Emma," he said sternly.

"No!" she said, her voice louder now. Her eyes flitted around nervously, and it was obvious that she was lying, but she was adamant about her answer. "With all due respect doctor, you've overstepped. I'll be on my way now." The doctor's mouth opened and closed like a fish, before he followed her out of the room, and halfway down the hall, waving a sling.

"Emma!" he called. "Wait!" Emma paused, and turned back to face the doctor, who proceeded to position her broken arm in a sling. He tucked something into the front of it, as he gave her instructions.

"Rest it, ice it, and elevate it. Come back in two days so we can put a cast on okay?" he instructed. Emma nodded her head, and tore away from the doctor. She continued down the winding halls of the hospital, ducking into the bathroom for a quick second. She took care of her business, and stood for a while in front of the mirror._ Oh God, what am I doing with my life?_ She thought, as she took in her, bruised, battered, broken, and very pregnant self. She reached her good hand into her sling, plucking out the item the doctor had placed there earlier. Her hands met a stiff card. She peered at it closely. On the front, in plain, unmemorable lettering was:

_Storybrooke Women and Children's home._

_1302 Goose Street._

_You've got to be kidding me._ Just as she was mulling over whether to throw the card away now, or later, the loud speaker came to life.

"Emma Swan, please report to the front desk, Emma Swan, to the front desk." Emma heaved a sigh, and tucked the card back into her sling.


	19. Chapter 19

**TRIGGER WARNING: Parts of this story that may trigger traumatic memories, will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKE border.**

**Time Passed In Storybrooke: One Week, 10 hours, 47 Minutes.**

He shot up in bed, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face. His heart beat raced, and he quickly became light headed. He knew immediately what was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to calm down. _You have to slow your breathing Killian. It was just a dream._ He tried to reassure himself, but it seemed more like a memory than a dream.

He had been fighting his way through what seemed like an army. He cut down man after man, but for each he killed, two seemed to take his place. She had been screaming his name, the golden haired lass, fighting hard against her captor to get to him, but the man holding her had snapped her neck, with no hesitation. She had died and there was nothing he could do. _You don't even know her, you needn't worry about black knights killing her off. _He thought cynically. But be that as it may, he couldn't get the image of her out of his mind. The way she screamed his name, fear in her voice, the way her neck snapped, and her voice was cut off. He panted harder, his vision swimming, and before he knew it, his vision was black.

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

**Across Town**

It had seemed so real, and it scared her to death. Not the fact that she had died, but the fact that she had been screaming for the one handed man with the sapphire blue eyes. She didn't even know his name, but she had dreamed about him, had fought tooth and nail to get to him, and him to her. Even if the effort was in vain in the dream, it affected her in real life more than she realized. A few things dawned on her at this very moment. She was far from happy, she needed to get out of this house, this relationship, and she needed to find the mystery man that had inserted himself into her life, without so much as a word. She glanced at her fiancé lying next to her, and breathed a deep sigh. How had the man she had loved so much hurt her so bad? _Had loved,_ she thought. _As in past tense. _ She sucked in a sharp breath, before glancing at the slumbering form of the person whom had beat her, both physically and mentally. The more she thought about it, the more she came to understand that her love for Neal was in fact, in the past. She had let this man walk all over her, treat her like trash. She had gone down without a fight, she had quit on herself, and her baby. _It won't happen again._ She finally drifted off to a restless sleep, haunted by the sound of ocean waves, and the sight of stormy blue eyes.

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

**In the Morning**

She awoke early the next morning, as always, and fixed both herself, and Neal breakfast, as a force of habit. She set his plate of food inside of the microwave to keep it warm, before gobbling down her serving. Next, she tiptoed around their shared bedroom, gathering the little belongings that she had, and tossing them into a backpack that she had borrowed from Neal. _Stolen_, she thought, adrenaline coursing through her veins at the idea. After all the things that this man had put her through, she was feeling vengeful, and rightfully so. _He most definitely will not be getting this back._ She grabbed the keys to her yellow bug, and hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. She was almost out the door before she looked down at her left hand, which still hung in a sling, as she had neglected to get it cast. She slowly, but surely wiggled the ring off of her finger, setting it on the kitchen table, right next to his whiskey glass from the night before, where he would be sure to find it.

_This is it. I'm finally leaving. I can't go back after this._ She thought, slightly unnerved by the idea. For a split second, she thought of going back, but quickly shook off the unease. She was ready. She was leaving, and she was never, ever coming back. She walked to her car with steady steps, and plopped down in the driver's seat, using her good arm to swing the back pack into the seat next to her. Reaching across her body, she closed the door, quiet enough so that it wouldn't disturb Neal. She put the keys in the ignition, and drove off towards the Women and Children's home.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

He awoke slowly, his head pounding, and his stomach aching. _Shit, what the hell happened? _ He thought back to the night before, proud to acknowledge that he hadn't been drinking, so what in God's name could've caused the pain that he was suffering this fine morning? It was then that he remembered the dream, and the events that transpired after it. With a groan, he sat up, pushing last night from his mind. _Bloody Hell, it's been a while since that's happened. _A panic attack. He had had a God damn panic attack, the first one in at least five years. He rubbed his head, and scrunched his eyes closed, before forcing them open once again, and groped around on his bedside table for the aspirin bottle he kept there for occasions such as these. He found it and popped two pills, before dragging himself out of bed, and off to the shower. It was Sunday after all, and every Sunday, ever since he could remember, he volunteered at the Woman and Children's home. He did it for the kids that had been abandoned, like himself, and he did it for the woman who had been beaten by the poor bastard's they found themselves shacked up with. He even made a point not to get arrested the night before, so he could get there bright and early to help with the processing of new arrivals. Not that there were any. But he did it anyway, for himself, as much as the two brothers, and the girl that lived there. He turned off the water, and stumbled bleary eyed, out of the shower, fumbling around for a towel, and then his clothes. He finally found all the items he was looking for, and set out, expecting a day just like every other Sunday, but knowing somehow, that it would be quite different.


	20. Chapter 20

**AUTHORS NOTE: I appreciate all the constructive criticism, it's actually really helpful. So to the guests who reviewed last chapter, and those people who've been wondering the same things, Emma's family will be having a bigger part in the story from this chapter on. Secondly, Killian never really became Captain Hook, so in my mind, he never really grew into the person who would make bad choices when put under a lot of stress. He will make lots of bad choices, because that is the opposite of who he was in the Enchanted Forest, but him volunteering at the Women and Children's home, is a little part of him that didn't change. If I'm forgetting to address anything let me know! TRIGGER WARNING: Situations that may bring up traumatic memories will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKE**

She drove past the Women and Children's home, not once, not twice, but three times, too many times for her to pretend that it was an accident. As she came up on the turn again, she took a deep breath in, and let it out, not once, not twice, but three times, too many times for her to pretend that she wasn't freaking out. She slowed down at the turn, eyeing it warily. Her hands moved on their own accord, spinning the wheel slightly to the right. The yellow bug turned, and she proceeded towards the non-descript building, surveying the surrounding area. It was nice, nicer than any of the foster homes, or the shelters she's stayed in in her almost eighteen years of life. The red brick building stood three stories high, and it was surrounded by trees. She pulled the bug into the small parking lot at the side of the building, and grabbed the backpack she had adopted as her own. She pulled herself out of the car, and walked towards the door. She paused, and looked up at the sky above her. It was heavy with thunder clouds, and as she pondered this new development, she felt a rain drop, and then another. Soon enough, she was soaked to the bone, her skin slick with the precipitation. But she just kept standing there, a puzzled look on her face. It was raining. It was raining in Storybrooke. It hadn't rained in Storybrooke for as long as she lived there, and that was a very long time. Over the patter of the rain, she heard the door creak open, and a voice called to her.

"Come on sweetie, you'll catch your death out here!" the woman called. Emma shook her head, snapping out of her dazed state, and hurried through the torrential downpour. The older woman pulled her into the lobby of the building, and shut the door behind them.

"How bout that huh? Hasn't rained here in forever!" she laughed. Emma nodded her head, pasting the fake smile that she mastered years ago on her face. The woman's grin faltered slightly, as if she could see through Emma's mask, but her eyes were still bright. "I'm Mary Margaret. I'm here Sundays, and Wednesdays after the elementary school gets out. I'm a teacher there." A small, genuine smile replaced the fake one on Emma's face.

"It's nice to meet you Mary Margaret. I'm Emma. Emma Swan."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"Gold!" Regina snarled, barging into the pawn shop, her usual cool demeanor upset by the turn of the weather. Her makeup was smudged, and she dripped water onto Mr. Gold's polished floor. The man behind the counter looked up, a pleasant smile on his face, as he took in the mayor's predicament.

"Madam Mayor, what a pleasant surprise," he drawled in a voice that always served to make Regina's skin crawl.

"It's raining," she stated carefully. "Why is it raining?" Gold chuckled.

"Well dearie, when clouds become too heavy with water droplets—"he started.

"I'm aware of the mechanics Gold!" she screeched, her tone underlying with panic. "What I don't understand, is why things are changing." Gold stared at her, as if the answer should be obvious.

"The curse is breaking," he said blandly. "Now if that's all, I really must be getting back to work."

"Wait!" Regina cried. "It can't be breaking! I cursed the savior along with the rest of them!" Gold laughed, a low, sinister laugh, and turned around to face her.

"Tsk tsk. When are you going to learn Regina? Always remember to tie up your loose ends," he said menacingly. And with those final words, he spun around, and walked into the back of his shop, leaving the Mayor alone in the front room with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"Well come on dear let's get you settled." Mary Margaret said, guiding Emma into the next room, and ushering her into a chair on one side of the desk, and taking a seat on the other.

"Full name?" she started.

"Emma Ruth Swan," Emma replied, sitting back in the extremely comfortable chair, resting her hands on her swollen belly. She looked over at the clock. _7:30. I certainly can get a lot of stuff done before eight in the morning. I bet Neal isn't even up yet._

"Emma?" Mary Margaret called. Emma startled at the woman's voice, cringing, like she expected punishment for zoning out. Mary Margaret smiled a sad smile, familiar with Emma's reaction, because she had seen it all before.

"Your date of birth sweetie," she said soothingly. Emma wrung her hands.

"October 23, 1995." Emma replied, her voice shaking slightly. Mary Margaret looked up at her in surprise. Emma cringed at her look, knowing what the woman must be thinking. _What kind of girl gets pregnant at eighteen? I've heard it all before, I've often wondered about it myself._

"Well Emma, take a look at the calendar." Mary said gently, moving so the girl could see it. The date came as a shock. With everything going on, she must've just lost track of time.

"Happy birthday Emma," the woman said kindly. Emma gaped at her, surprised at the sincere tone in her voice. The woman shot her a questioning glance, and before she could stop them, the words came tumbling out.

"It's been a while since someone's wished me a happy anything," she said quietly. Now it was Mary Margaret's turn to gape, but the woman didn't. Instead, she pushed herself up from her chair, and walked around the desk. She leaned down, gathering the girl in her arms, pulling her into her chest. It was strangely comforting, being hugged by this woman that she had known for all of a half hour. Mary Margaret released her grasp on Emma, and walked out of the room, gesturing for the girl to follow. Emma did without question, but not because she was afraid. She did it because she felt safe for some odd reason.

"It's time to go to show you your room," she called behind her, climbing the steps. Emma followed after her, becoming a little breathless as she ascended the stair case. Mary Margaret paused at the top of the stair case, and offered Emma a reassuring smile. They walked down the hallway together, and Mary Margaret stopped in front of a blue painted door, adorned with painted vines, which created the illusion of a beanstalk reaching towards the clouds. _A beanstalk. Really Emma?_ Ignoring her childish thoughts, Emma watched as Mary Margaret opened the door, and stepped tentatively through the door frame.

"It's—It's great," Emma choked out, her eyes filling with tears. Mary Margaret misunderstood, fumbling to fix the situation.

"If you don't like it we can always—"but Emma cut her off.

"No Mary Margaret. Really, I love it," she said firmly, looking at the woman beside her. A genuine grin was plastered on both women's faces as Mary Margaret showed her around the room. As she was about to walk out the door, she suddenly turned back towards the girl.

"Emma, this is really important. I need to take your phone, and anything else the person you're trying to get away from can track okay? That means I'll need your car keys too," she said carefully, as to not set the poor girl off. Emma sighed, but nodded her head, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone, and her keys. Mary Margaret took them with a grateful smile, and turned to leave again.

"I'll have the other volunteer by you a burner phone, and when he gets here, he'll just drive your car around back and park it in the garage okay?" she asked. Emma nodded her response, and plopped down on the bed, careful not to jostle her arm. "I'll also call the doctor for your arm. You're supposed to get a cast right?"

"Yeah," Emma sighed.

"Alright cool beans," Mary Margaret said. "One last thing, breakfast is at 8:15, and while you may have already eaten, you should probably get acquainted with the other people staying here."

"How many are there?" Emma inquired curiously.

"Three. Two brothers, and a little girl," Mary Margaret replied. "See you then Emma!" She hurried down the stairs, leaving the girl to get comfortable in her new surroundings. When she reached the desk, she picked up the phone, and dialed the familiar number.

"Hello?" a gruff voice on the other end said.

"Killian! For once I'm glad you're running late," she said brightly.

"Whadya need Mary I'm trying to drive," he grumbled.

"I need you to pick up a burner phone," she replied, trying to make him curious.

"A new arrival?" he asked, his voice more interested.

"Yup," she said proudly. "So hurry up so you can be in time for breakfast alright?"

"Yes ma'am" he said, before hanging up the phone. She walked up the stairs again, but turned the opposite direction of Emma's new room, choosing to walk towards a dark red door, and a purple door at the end of the hall. She opened the purple door, and walked in, bending down next to the slumbering form of the girl in the bed. She placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, and shook it softly.

"Grace, it's time to get up," she cooed. Grace rolled over, but Mary Margaret saw that her eyes were open, and exited the room, proceeding across the hall. Grace was always easy to wake up. But the boys were another story. She threw open the door, knowing she needed to make a spectacular entrance to start the brutal procedure of getting the boys out of bed. Well, the older brother.

"Good morning Leo, good to see you brushing up on some reading," she said to the boy in the bed on the left, who was reading a book on fairy tales that she had given him for Christmas. She didn't expect him to reply. He never did. He simply nodded at her, and jumped up from his bed, heading down to the kitchen.

"Neal!" she called loudly, plopping down on the bed on the right, making the boy residing in it groan loudly. She pulled at his pillows, tossing them to the other bed across the room, and then started on his comforter, placing that by the door.

"Mary, just five more minutes," he pleaded, but she wasn't having any of it.

"Get up Neal, we have a new arrival," she ordered in a voice that alerted Neal to the fact that she was not to be trifled with. He sat up groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Satisfied, she blew out of the room, hustled down the stairs, and hurried towards the kitchen to help Leo set the table.


	21. Chapter 21

**AUTHORS NOTE: Thank you all for reading, and reviewing this story I'm glad you all like it. To clarify, I stated that Emma and Killian would be keeping their names, I didn't say anything about the other characters. And you're right, having two people named Neal is kind of confusing, but that will be resolved in this chapter. TRIGGER WARNING! Situations that may bring up traumatic memories, will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKEKEKE. **

A new arrival. There was a bloody new arrival at the home. He was right, things really are changing. But the real question is, are things changing for the better, or for the worse? _Stop being so cynical Killian. It's just another poor damsel in distress fleeing after she realized Prince Charming isn't so charming. _He stopped at the convenience store, bought the phone in cash, just like the infuriating Mary Margaret always reminded him to do on the rare occasion that they had someone new at the home, and hurried off. Now that he thought about it, they never have had a new arrival at the home. It's just been the kids, ever since that place was built. When was it built? Killian racked his brain, but his memories were foggy. The only thing that was crystal clear, was her. But he'd been dreaming about her for as far back as his memory goes, though only now could he place the girl. In his dreams, she didn't seem fragile like she appeared to in real life, she was strong, brave, ferocious, someone not to be crossed. Even so, the dreams were nightmares, always nightmares. As he made the turn with practiced ease, an interesting thought waltzed its way up to the forefront of his brain, and he just couldn't get it to go away. What if the new arrival was her? What would he do? What would he say? As he pulled his way up to the building, his fears were realized, when he laid eyes on her yellow punch buggy, sitting in the parking lot like it was meant to be there all along.

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Emma stared out her window, her eyes focused on the sleep black car approaching. She watched curiously as it turned into the parking lot, and pulled into a space right next to her car, when there were at least five other parking spots. She kept watching as a man gracefully stepped out of the car, holding a plastic bag in one hand, which contained what was most likely her new burner phone. Her eyes widened when she caught a glimpse of silver where his left hand should be. _Him. _The man who had been haunting her dreams for a long time now, longer than she cared to admit. She looked away quickly, as if he might catch her staring from two stories up, and decided to watch the clock instead. When it hit 8:13, she stood up, slowly, and started making her way down the stairs.

"You alright there Emma?" she heard Mary Margaret call from the kitchen.

"I'm fine!" Emma replied breathlessly. It must've been a little to breathlessly for Mary Margaret's liking, because after some murmuring, a boy, probably about fourteen years old, appeared at the bottom of the steps. With hair only a little bit darker than Emma's, and brown eyes he was oddly familiar. He rushed up the stairs towards her, and stopped one step below her, holding out his arm with a grin that was similar to her own rare one.

"Need a hand?" he asked, his tone light. Emma gratefully rested her hand on his elbow, and felt a strange sense of deja vu washed over her, but she ignored it.

"Thanks," she replied with a small smile.

"You must be the new arrival, Emma," he continued, the smile firmly in place. "I'm Neal." Emma's heart quickened at that, but she took a deep breath to calm down. Concern showed in the boy's eyes, and his smile wavered as she took a deep breath. _This kid is not him. This kid is not _Cassidy._ This kid is Neal. Neal the nice, gentle boy who helps me down the stairs. _

"I'm fine," she replied honestly

_She's telling the truth_ Neal thought.

"Awesome," he said.

"So Neal, tell me about yourself," she said as they reached the bottom of the stairs, cringing at her lame attempt to change the subject. Pretending not to notice, Neal gestured to a framed painting on the wall. It was a castle, a beautiful castle, set on the edge of a crystal clear body of water, with snowy mountains in the background. It was a beautiful painting, one only an artist of great skill, with years of experience could make.

"I painted that," he said nonchalantly, leading her towards the dining room.

_Truth_ she thought, but she entertained him anyway. She turned to him wide eyed. She almost had to look up at him now that they were on even ground. She could see the smirk on his face, and her smile grew a little.

"I did," he clarified, as they stepped through the door way and into the dining room.

"Wow," she breathed, honestly impressed at the boy's obvious talent. "Maybe you should paint me some time," she joked. Neal looked down at her, and his eyes bore into hers.

_She's so familiar. _"Maybe I will," he said cheekily. Emma looked up at him, surprise flickering across her face. She couldn't tell if the boy was serious or not, but she decided to just offer him a kind smile. She liked him, he just made her feel comfortable, kind of like Mary Margaret, but in a brotherly sort of way. Before she could say anything more, they arrived in the dining room, where Mary Margaret, a girl about Neal's age, and a boy that was obviously Neal's brother, despite the different coloring, sat around a big table. Neal escorted Emma to one of the empty chairs, and gently lifted her hand off of his elbow. She let it fall by her side, and watched with an amused smile as he pulled the chair out, and gestured for her to sit down.

"What a gentleman," she praised, before taking her seat. As Neal pushed her in, a new voice joined the conversation from the door way.

"Neal, quit stealing my moves to try and win over the ladies!" a deep Irish brogue called. _Irish, he had to be Irish._

"Not my fault that you seem to be a little shorthanded in that department Killian," Neal shot back with a smirk. A smile grew on Killian's face, but Emma could see the pain he was trying to mask at the boy's comment.

"Oi lad, enough with the hand jokes, ladies are present," he reprimanded, taking the last empty seat across from Emma.

"Killian," Mary Margaret started in, but Killian didn't let her finish, holding up his good hand to stop the scolding she was surely going to give him.

"I just need the lass's keys Mary Margaret. I know you can't bear to be apart from me for too long," he laughed dryly. The other woman glared at him, but wordlessly tossed him the keys, before turning to continue her conversation with Grace. Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome, _Stop it Emma, _turned to Emma, smirking at her, and winked, before he jumped up from his chair, and was out the door, sprinting through the downpour, towards her bug. She watched him go, but quickly averted her eyes once she realized the room was silent.

"He didn't try to make a move or anything!" the girl, _Grace_, said excitedly.

"Is that not normal for him?" Emma asked, slightly confused. Neal nodded, shoveling a fork full of food into his face. Emma turned to Mary Margaret for confirmation, and she sighed.

"Killian's quite a character. He's obnoxious, and he drips innuendo and flirts with anything that moves. I don't know what it means that he didn't make a move on you Emma, and if I were you, I would just ignore it," she explained. Emma nodded, because she understood immediately, what the others probably didn't. The smirks, and the flirty winks, and the innuendo's the others seemed to think that he constantly dropped, were all Killian's walls. She could see it in the way his smile didn't quite reach his dull, tired eyes, and the dark circles that were probably a permanent fixture underneath them. She could see, because she was just like him, and that, made her worry.


	22. Chapter 22

**TRIGGER WARNING: Sensitive situations, will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

Killian took the keys, and hurried out of the room, breathing heavily. He rushed out the door, and turned the corner, briskly walking towards the parking lot. He made his way over to the yellow bug, pulled the door open, and sat down heavily in the driver's seat. _Bloody Hell _he thought, before putting the keys in the ignition. He tried to calm his breathing, because God knows whatwould happen if he had an attack here. But it was proving to be a challenge, as he remembered the bruises on the girl's face, and the way she cringed away from Neal's gentle touch, and his own voice, like she was expecting to be hit. He didn't know the girl's name, but he felt a kinship to her, because he knew better than anyone, that no one should ever have to feel like that. He tried to picture peaceful thoughts, like the ocean, or a sunset, but one kept reoccurring in his mind. It was the blonde girl, in a beautiful red gown, descending a flight of stairs, holding onto young Neal's arm. For reasons unbeknownst to Killian, that seemed to do the trick, and his breathing slowed, and his heart beat at a relatively normal rhythm. Killian turned the keys in the ignition, and put the beat up punch buggy in reverse.

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"So whadya all say, we go around the table and introduce ourselves to Emma here?" Mary Margaret suggested, once everyone was about finished eating. "You can start with your age, a fun fact, and…"

"How long you've been here," Neal cut in. "I'll start."

"Neal honey I don't think—" Mary Margaret started tentatively, but the boy had already launched into his spiel.

"I'm Neal. No last name, just a first name. Guess you can thank my wonderful parents for that," he said dryly, anger flashing in his eyes. _He's too young for all that anger_ Emma thought. _But then again, so was I._

"As you know, I like to paint, and I guess I'm pretty good at it. Been here eight years, got dropped off with poor Leo over here when he was just a baby. Guess I have our fantastic parents to thank for that too," Neal spat, before standing up abruptly.

"Now since I know everyone else's sob story, I'm going to clear the table," he continued, grabbing his plate and storming out.

"Neal Stone!" Mary Margaret yelled. "You get back here right now and sit patiently while we go around the table!" she stormed into the kitchen after him.

"That is not my name! It's a name assigned by the God damn town, one that you people write on paper, but that. Is. Not. My. Name." the remaining people sitting at the table heard the boy yell, right before plates were smashed. It was then that Killian walked back in, cringing at the noise, and the raised voices.

"Oi I'm gonna have to buy more china aren't I," he sighed. Grace nodded, before turning to Emma.

"I guess we should continue," she said softly. "They could be a while." Emma looked the girl over, before nodding her head, a gesture meant to encourage Grace to continue. She did.

"I'm Grace. Grace Woods I guess. I like to write, and draw, and sew and stuff like that," the girl heaved another sigh, looking like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. _She's too young to be this sad. Just like Neal's too young to be that angry. They shouldn't feel like I felt when I was their age. No one should._ Emma blinked back tears, but when she caught Killian looking at her out of the corner of her eye, the stoney mask that she'd perfected over her years in the system, fell into place once again. She listened as Grace continued her story.

"I got here shortly after Neal and Leo, which I guess puts me at about eight years too," Grace finished, just as quietly as she'd started, her stare trained on the table like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Emma turned towards the youngest boy, who she assumed was Leo, Neal's brother, but was distracted by someone clearing their throat on the other side of her. She turned her head towards the offender, and raised her eyebrow challengingly.

"Well lass, I believe it's my turn," Killian said mischievously.

"By all means," Emma said, wondering what the man had cooked up to try and charm her.

"I'm Killian Jones. Lived in this town for as long as I could remember, been volunteering on Sunday's for as long as the place's been open. A long standing tradition of my brother's it is." Emma pretended not to notice the slight crack of his voice when he said the word brother. "You've probably heard of me. In and out of jail, though despite what the Sheriff says, they never do have any proof," he smirked. Emma looked at him, unamused, before turning again to Leo.

"What about you?" she asked him. He stared at her with his hauntingly pale blue eyes, but said nothing.

"That's Leopold Stone. Neal's little brother, likes to be called Leo for short. He's been here so long that this is the only place he remembers. He reads a lot, almost always has his head buried in a book. Oh, and he doesn't talk much," Killian stated matter of factly. With a nod, Leo got up from the table, and pattered into the kitchen, where Mary Margaret was crying, as Neal had stormed up the stairs during Killian's little speech. As Grace got up from the table, and went upstairs in search of Neal, Mary Margaret's sobs lowered in volume, before subsiding all together. Neither she nor Leo came out of the kitchen though.

"So love, tell me about yourself," Killian said, his charm turned up to eleven. Emma again gave him her best unamused look before saying, "I'm not your love."

"Never said you were," he replied, slightly shaken by her resistance. Emma heaved a sigh.

"I'm eighteen, almost six months pregnant, and living in a woman and children's home. What more is there?" she growled. Slightly taken aback by her answer, Killian sat there for a moment.

"I don't want to know that, I want to know your story. I want to know the ins and the outs of you, I want to know who you are," he said, because he did want to know her. Now that he'd met her, he didn't just want to help her, he wanted to heal her, to make her whole again. Emma stood up abruptly because she could hear the truth in his words, and she wanted to tell him everything, she really did, but she couldn't.

"We could just start with the basics lass. How bout a name?" he pleaded with her.

"Emma Swan," she whispered, just loud enough so that he could hear her, before she turned away from him, and started up the stairs.


	23. Chapter 23

**AUTHORS NOTE: Charming is coming I promise!**

**TRIGGER WARNING: Sensitive situations will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK.**

He didn't go after her, as much as he wanted to. He didn't, because he knew she would shut him out, not even give him a chance. That's what he would've done. Instead, he grabbed a broom, and a dust pan, and carefully made his way into the kitchen. Ignoring a sniveling Mary Margaret, he swept the broken dishes into the dustpan, all in one motion, and dumped it in the trash. Next, he walked quietly up the stairs. He looked longingly at Emma's closed door, _Of course Mary Margaret gave her the bean stalk one, _but turned the other way, towards the room Neal was surely hiding away in. He threw open the door, not even bothering to knock, and stepped in, taking long strides towards the bed opposite of the one Neal and Grace sat side by side on.

"Give us a moment will you lass?" Killian said politely. No one would mistake it for a question though, it was more like a direct order. Grace nodded her consent, gave Neal's hand a reassuring squeeze, and walked out, shutting the door behind her.

"Putting the moves on the ladies eh lad?" Killian chuckled awkwardly. Neal gave him a pointed look.

"Spit it out Killian," he spat. Killian's expression hardened at the venom in the young boys tone.

"You will not smash any more dishes, and you will not yell at Mary Margaret again. I mean for God's sake lad, you made her cry!" Killian exclaimed furiously. "You are fourteen God damnitt Neal! Start acting like it! Like it or not, Leo needs you, Grace needs you, and now Emma needs you, to be strong despite the circumstances! Get over yourself!" Neal stared at Killian like he had seen a ghost.

"Say something!" Killian almost yelled.

"You sound like my father," Neal whispered. Stunned into silence, Killian just sat there, staring at Neal, who stared right back, both unsure of what to do. Finally, Killian just said, "You will apologize to Mary Margaret first and foremost, and to everybody else, and you will fix your attitude, and your behavior, alright?" Neal nodded his head slowly. Killian stood up from his chair, and moved towards the door way.

"Things are finally changing lad. But things are going to get worse before they get better," Killian said quietly, standing in the door way now. Neal gave him a funny look.

"How do you know?" he inquired. Killian looked at the boy for a moment, before looking away.

"I just feel it," he concluded, before walking away.

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Emma sat in her room, crying softly, mourning for the things she had lost, and the things she could have had. Most of all, she mourned for the girl she could've been, the girl that would've embraced Killian's words, that would've told him everything he had wanted to know, that would've opened up. She cried as she heard heavy footsteps walk down the hall, down the stairs, and out the door.

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**Time passed in Storybrooke, 11 days, 13 hours, 34 minutes. **

Emma slowly but surely grew acclimated to her new home throughout the week. She wondered if Cassidy missed her less and less, and she came to know all the other residents of the house, and the volunteers, favoring the dirty blonde man known as David, who worked at the animal shelter, and apparently came on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Mary Margaret. She slept soundly, if not a little awkwardly, due to her ever growing baby bump, and the new cast on her left arm. It had started out white, but the kids had been bored one day, and had wanted to give it a little _pizazz _as Grace had put it excitedly. Emma was against it at first, and even the constant badgering couldn't change her mind. It was when Grace and Neal had finally given up, and left her alone with Leo, that her mind changed. Leo had stood next to her, and taken one of her hands in both of his, and looked into her eyes. Emma froze, not used to human contact that wasn't causing her pain, and clammed up tight, but after a second, her feelings seemed to mellow out, becoming more calm. Her reservation faded away, replaced by feelings of contentment, and even something that resembled happiness. A smile grew on Emma's face, matching the small one that sat on Leo's. When Leo released her hand, she quickly realized that she was grinning like a fool, and schooled her features. She looked over at the young boy, with a puzzled expression, but found no trace of the smile he had on earlier. He was back to his stoney faced self, and he was walking away from her, towards where Grace and Neal were sitting on the couch, watching TV. Emma smirked at the two teens who were a little bit too close to be called, just friends, and before she knew it, she was calling out to them.

"Alright fine, let's see whatcha got!" she had yelled. The kids laughed, and split up, running to their rooms to gather supplies. When they came back, they sat Emma down in a chair, laid newspaper out on the table, and set to work. Neal painted, Grace and Leo bedazzled. She ended up with a cast that was patterned with ocean waves, with the sky was made up of white and light blue gems that Grace had had laying around on the forearm, and on the upper arm portion, Neal had painted it so it looked just like a flying ship. It was actually really awesome. It reminded Emma of something, though she couldn't remember what. The ship gave her a comforting feeling, and she found herself looking at it before she fell asleep.

She dreamed about Killian, except this dream was different than all the others. He wore what she could only describe as an old fashioned naval uniform, maybe from the 1700s, and he was walking away from her, up onto the ship that was painted onto her cast. As he sauntered up the gang plank, he looked back over his shoulder, and offered her a sad smile. Later in the same dream, back in her room at the castle, _Come on Emma, your days of wanting to be a princess were over a long time ago, _a still very pregnant Emma plopped down onto her bed. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a man with gold, scaly skin appeared in a puff of smoke, and handed her a box. He chuckled, but it was more like a cackle, and puffed out of the room again. Dream Emma opened the box and screamed, because inside of it, was a human hand, one that unmistakably belonged to the man she had seen off at the docks earlier.

Real Emma's eyes shot open, and she sat up violently, clutching at her stomach. She heard someone screaming, but she couldn't tell who, all she could understand was the pain, searing pain, radiating from her very core. She heard panicked voices yelling, something about calling 911, and the baby, and calling Mary Margaret or David or Killian or _somebody_, and then there was only darkness, sweet, sweet darkness.

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She was floating, she felt light, and she felt free. She tried to open her eyes, but they stubbornly remained shut. A feeling of unease washed over her. Something enveloped her, and it was warm, and soft, and she just wanted to lay in it forever, but she couldn't. She was restless, tossing and turning, trying to shake the thing off. A whispered voice cut through the darkness.

"Rest little one, go to sleep now," it was a motherly voice, Emma decided. It reminded her of Mary Margaret, except this one was slightly different, the emphasis on different words and syllables. It was more like an older version of her, Emma decided, and that relaxed her, because if the older version of her approved then why shouldn't she? The movement of her limbs ceased, excluding the tapping of her fingers, that she couldn't seem to stop.

"Be still little one," the motherly voice of older Emma commanded. Emma tried to comply, but to no avail.

"No!" a more urgent voice said. Again, the voice reminded her of herself, but this one brought on different feelings. It wasn't calming, it didn't soothe her. It riled her up, made her feel twitchy almost. She started to move again. "Fight it!" the urgent voice commanded. Murmuring filled the abyss, the two voices battling against each other for dominance. One voice, a new voice, boomed over all the others.

"It is not her time," the familiar voice thundered. More murmuring ensued, but the strong voice cut through the white noise again.

"She needs to go back," it said. This voice, just like the other ones, stirred more feelings inside of her, but they were of a different kind. These were deeper feelings, which she couldn't quite place

"Yes master," the other two voices hissed. Emma's body tensed because something wasn't right with the way they both sounded pleased at the decree. The familiar voice caught it too.

"Both of them," he said, in an accent so similar to Irish, that she decided to call it that. The warm feeling that surrounded her, receded, replaced by coolness. Cold metal brushed her arms, and her body seemed to be in motion, like she was being pushed, or rolled on something. She peeled her eyes open groggily, and tried to sit up.

"She's awake!" someone yelled over her. Another someone spoke to her directly.

"Don't try to sit up sweetheart, just lay back, that's right good job. Everything is going to be fine I promise." The someone said. She heard a voice calling her name loudly.

"Sir stay back!" someone shouted.

"That's my fiancé! She's pregnant, that's my kid!" the voice yelled angrily.

"She isn't your fiancé anymore!" a woman joined the fray. The angry voice turned on her.

"You bitch, stay out of it!" the man spat.

"Don't talk to her like that!" a different man called, this one more protective.

"Listen here you little sh—"the angry voice started to say, before it was cut off by the sound of flesh smacking into flesh.

"Should've left while you had the chance mate," another person cut in, his voice fading away slowly, as if he was walking out the door, or maybe being dragged, given the circumstances. Despite the dull ache in her belly, and in all of her joints, a tired grin blossomed across Emma's face. She fell back onto the pillow below her, and the darkness rose up to catch her.


	24. Chapter 24

**AUTHORS NOTE: I'm really sorry about the long wait guys but school started and I've been just really overwhelmed and then once I was finally free my friend decided to that she wanted to go camping and invited me (such a bad idea) and then I got sick. So to make up for that this chapter will be extra-long, and will feature more family moments, and there's also a surprise coming from Leo!**

**TRIGGER WARNING: Sensitive situations that could trigger traumatic memories will be marked off with the bolded KEKEKEKEKEKEK**

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

Killian walked away from the hospital with a smug grin on his face, choosing to ignore the knot of dread that was making itself known in the pit of his stomach. He cleared his mind, focused on taking deep breaths, keeping his heart beat steady, and walked. He was aware of the man following behind him, and he definitely noticed when the other set of footsteps started to accelerate when he turned a corner. A sigh escaped his lips, and he pressed himself up against the wall, disappearing into the shadows. The follower rounded the bend, and stopped, wearing what was surely a very confused expression, even though Killian couldn't really make it out, as his features were obscured by the gray hoodie pulled up to cover his face. The mystery man, who wasn't really all that of a mystery, walked slowly down the sidewalk that Killian had been on seconds earlier, surveying his surroundings carefully. But he wasn't careful enough. As he walked past, Killian took advantage of the unguarded moment to strike out, kicking the man in the back of the legs with as much force as he could muster. The hooded man went down, only letting out a small groan of pain. Killian was on top of him in an instant, flipping him over onto his back, and straddling him, effectively using his legs to pin the man's arms to his sides, and using his weight to keep him on the ground.

"Neal Cassidy. What a surprise," Killian snarled. He raised his fist, and swung it towards the face of the man who had beaten Emma, toyed with her mind, broken her spirit. It collided with his face with a sickening, but satisfying crunch. He pulled back to take another swing, his eyes narrowed.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now," Killian whispered, his voice low and menacing.

"Because I know the truth," Cassidy responded, his voice trembling only slightly.

"Oh? And what would that be?" Killian mocked. Neal glared up at his attacker, and his eyes burned with hatred, second only to the inferno that swirled inside of Killian, threatening to break free at any moment.

"You're a coward," Neal spat. A mixture of blood and saliva flew from Cassidy's mouth, hitting Killian in the eye. Killian raised his left arm, the one with the hook, and wiped at his eye with his sleeve. In the blink of an eye, his hook was imbedded in Neal's shoulder. The wounded man's scream was cut off by Killian's good hand covering his mouth.

"Only a coward would beat the mother of his child," Killian hissed, punctuating the last syllable with a twist of his hook. Cassidy's muffled screams grew only louder as Killian went on. "Only a coward handcuffs a woman to a radiator and kicks her, and hits her." A fist collided with Cassidy's jaw. "Only a coward manipulates the woman he claims to love into thinking that she deserves the punishment that he inflicts on her." Killian ripped his hook out of the man's shoulder, and trails the sharp edge down the side of his face, leaving a deep gash that oozed blood down his profile, and collected on the asphalt beneath him. "You are a coward Neal Cassidy, and if I ever see you near Emma, or her child, or anybody close to them, I will end you." With a final blow to the side of the head, Cassidy was unconscious. Killian stood up, panting. He grabbed at a bit of Cassidy's already blood stained shirt, and used it to clean the gore off of his hook. He turned to walk away, but stopped, looking back at the battered body. _Bloody Hell._ Killian thought grumpily. _I guess I'll have to take him with me. _Bending down, and grabbing the man by the waist, he lifted him up, and swung him over his shoulder, and proceeded down main street, back towards the hospital.

**KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK**

Mary Margaret paced the waiting room anxiously, awaiting news of the young woman and her child, whom had entered surgery about an hour ago. Attempting to distract herself with magazines, and boring, late night TV, her thoughts wandered, straying to the earlier episode that had unfolded as Emma had been admitted into the hospital. Neal Cassidy had showed, calling for Emma, claiming her as his, and she had thoughtlessly attacked him with her words, even knowing what she did about the man. She was thankful that David stood up for her, even though she wasn't sure why he had been so fiercely protective. She was also thankful that Killian had showed when she did, though she was slightly appalled at his rash actions, thought she really shouldn't have been surprised. As much as a troublemaker the young man was, he had always been a bit of a vigilante, protecting those that couldn't protect themselves. No one knew why he did what he did, and Mary Margaret could only imagine the reasons behind his behavior. Her mind turned back to David, who had held her as she wept, and hurried off to collect the children from the home once she had gotten control of her emotions. She was brought back to earth by the sound of the automatic doors opening, and the patter of several pairs off footsteps hurrying towards her.

"Mary Margaret!" Neal and Grace chorused, striding in her direction, followed closely by an as always stoney faced Leo, and David, who seemed to be holding himself together, but just barely, acting as the rock for everyone else who needed him. Her attention turned to a teary faced Grace who was frantically assaulting her with questions.

"What's wrong with Emma? What happened? Where is she? How is she? How is the baby? Where is Killian? Does the father know?" she gasped, all in one breath. She collapsed in a fit of sobs, leaning against Neal, who wrapped his arms around her, cooing soft words of reassurance in her ear. Mary Margaret took a deep breath, simultaneously pulling Leo onto her lap as she did so. David slid into the chair next to her, and took her right hand in his left. His presence calmed her. It always did, for some odd reason. She swept her thumb across his hand, pausing when she came to the cold metal of his wedding band, which still sat firmly on his ring finger. She pulled away quickly, wrapping both hands around Leo's tiny waist, and ignoring the brief flash of hurt that crossed David's face.

"We don't know what's wrong with Emma," Mary Margaret began. "The most we can tell is that something caused the baby to go into distress, which hurt both it, and Emma. They're in surgery now, trying to make Emma better, and keep the baby from coming."

"Why can't they just get it out of her?" Neal interjected angrily. Leo jumped of off Mary Margaret's lap, and went to join Neal, who's features relaxed the instant he touched his baby brother.

"It's too early," Mary Margaret explained. "The baby isn't developed enough to leave Emma's body." Neal nodded his understanding, and Grace asked again, "Where is Killian? Does the baby's father know what happened?" Mary Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but shut it in surprise as David answered the question.

"The baby's father does know. I'm not sure how he found out, but he got here almost immediately after Emma did. He started making noise, and throwing his weight around, trying to get in to see Emma, but they wouldn't let him. He got upset and started talking about how Emma was 'his' and crap like that. Mary Margaret yelled at him, and he turned on her, and then me, and I guess Killian had had enough, because he decked him. They both got thrown out," David spelled out. Neal smirked a little bit at that.

"Go Killian," he chuckled. Grace punched him on the shoulder, but she couldn't suppress a small laugh either. They sat in silence for a while, watching the home improvement channel, but not really watching, waiting for news of Emma and the baby's condition. A quarter of an hour passed, before the small, weary group heard the automatic doors open again. Their heads swiveled automatically towards the culprit, and their mouths dropped open as Killian strode in confidently, a body swung across his shoulders casually. He grunted with effort as he slid the person off of his shoulders, dumping them into a heap on the floor.

"Excuse me!" he called, looking in the general direction of the reception desk. "I believe this man needs medical attention!" He looked around the waiting room, his eyes stopping at the rather haggard looking band of people staring at him with varied expressions of confusion, surprise, and awe on their faces. He winked at them, before turning on his heel and walking out, just as the nurses swarmed the present he had left behind for them.

"Where do you think he's going now?" Neal pondered aloud. David sighed.

"If he's smart, he'll probably go to the police station and turn himself in," he said.

"How do you know he even did anything wrong?" Mary Margaret asked him testily.

"The look on his face," David replied, effectively shutting down any further comments from Mary Margaret, or the teenagers.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Killian left the hospital for what he thought was the final time that night, and headed off towards the police station, knowing that Graham would probably meet him halfway. He walked in the middle of the street, too tired to care, to lost in his thoughts to even notice. _What if she doesn't come out of surgery okay?_ He thought. _What if she loses the baby? _And one of the most horrifying ideas of them all, _what if I killed that man? _He was shaken out of his thoughts by the painful screech of a speeding car slamming on its breaks, followed by pain, intense, indescribable pain.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"Oh how wonderful, a visit from both of you in one night," a voice closely resembling his own said. Killian made a weak attempt to pry his eyes open, but found them glued shut.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said groggily. The man chuckled.

"Oh Killy, you will though," he laughed.

"Don't call me that," Killian groaned. The voice only laughed more.

"_Forces unknown, continue to fight _Killian. _It is inevitable_, but you have to remember, _the book never lies,"_ It said.

"What in the seven hells are you bloody talking about?" Killian questioned, his head pounding, his body aching all over, particularly in his abdominal region. A low chuckle resonated all around him, consuming his thoughts.

"Goodbye Killian. Hope to see you soon," the voice said.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

Doctor Whale strode into the waiting room, with a grimace on his face. David, Mary Margaret, Neal, Grace, and even Leo, all sprang up from their seats once they lay eyes on him. He kneaded the back of his neck, and looked at the raggedy band of people with a solemn expression.

"She's—She's in labor," he stated. A breath that they hadn't realized they were holding, was released collectively by the group. Then, Mary Margaret straightened up, looking the doctor in the eye, and said, "She needs someone in there with her." The doctor eyed the small woman warily, but nodded his agreement.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" David whispered in her ear quietly. Mary Margaret glared at him, not liking the way her feelings for the man messed with her morals, and replied spitefully, "It's not like you can do it." She followed the doctor through the heavy metal doors, and with a heavy heart, and a decision to be made, David watched her go.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"You need to push Emma!" Mary Margaret encouraged the young woman. "The baby needs to come out!" The girl lying on the bed screamed in agony, but she heeded the older woman's advice and pushed.

"One more time! You can do this, just hold onto my hand!" Mary Margaret cried. Emma looked up into the eyes of the woman who helped her through so much, and was helping her through one of the biggest moments in her life, and she pushed, screaming any curse word she could think of. She cried in pain, and then together, the women cried in relief as they heard a very small, but very powerful voice chorus with theirs.

"Congratulations Emma, it's a boy," Doctor Whale laughed, placing the tiny baby in the woman's arms. "You can hold him for a while, but he's premature, so he's gonna' need some special treatment." Emma nodded her understanding, and the medical staff left, leaving only Mary Margaret, Emma, and the baby. Emma looked up at Mary Margaret again, fresh tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes.

"I—I don't know if I can be a mother," she whimpered, and Mary Margaret's heart broke.

"Emma, I think you would be the best mother a child could ask for," she replied, her voice cracking. Emma sniffled, and nodded, a smile breaking out on her face as she looked at the tiny child in her arms.

"He's got a full head of hair," she giggled. "His father's hair was never that dark." Mary Margaret turned her eyes to the boy, noticing the features he shared with Emma, but none he shared with his father.

"You're right, it's almost tinged red," she added. While the women stared at the baby, a young resident knocked on the door. Mary Margaret invited her in, and she entered, coming to a standstill at the foot of Emma's hospital bed, standing a little awkwardly.

"Uh—Hi—I mean, congratulations—Uh—I'm here to take your baby to make sure he's fully developed and to give him all his shots and stuff," she stuttered. Emma grinned and handed over her boy as best she could, with still only one fully functioning arm. The student held him in a way only a medical professional can do. She paused on her way out the door, to read her pager. _Hit and run off of Main Street. Male, two-one, several broken bones, head trauma, and possible internal bleeding. Ambulance en-route._ The resident hurried off down the hall.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

After Emma got a few hours of sleep, and bonded with her baby a little bit, she was allowed visitors. Of course, the first people she saw, were Mary Margaret, David, Grace, Neal, and Leo. The teens were excited to see her, and the baby, and calmed only when David gave them what Emma had come to call 'the look'. Leo just stood close to her on the left side of the bed, his gaze never leaving the newborn. The rest of the group sat and chatted. Those that were allowed to, guzzled coffee and hot chocolate and scones from Starbucks, earning a glare eerily similar to David's from Emma. When visiting time was over, the teenagers said their goodbyes, and were herded out the door by the adults, who promised to bring them by every day until her and the babe were released.

"Come on Leo it's time to go," Mary Margaret said to the young boy. He refused to move, his blue eyes icy, and his jaw set stubbornly in an oddly familiar way. It was almost like they had seen it before, in an older version of the boy.

"Leo, it's time to let Emma rest," Mary Margaret tried, but he didn't move a muscle.

"Mary it's okay, really," Emma said to the obviously stressed woman. "Go home, drink a glass of red wine, have a bubble bath or something. The kid can stay with me and…the kid." Mary Margaret eyed Emma suspiciously, like she expected her to be up to something.

"You sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure," Emma clarified. Mary Margaret glanced back at them one more time, her gaze lingering on the young boy, and the older girl—no—woman. Struck by a sudden sense of déjà vu, she nodded her head, and left them to their own devices. Emma turned to Leo.

"So kid, whadya wanna do?" she inquired. Leo looked from Emma's face, to that of her baby, and back to Emma, his eyebrows raised.

"You wanna hold him?" Emma inferred. Leo nodded acquiesce, and held out his hands, mimicking the way Emma was cradling the baby. Gently, Emma placed the baby in his outstretched arms.

"That's a good job. Now hold him close to your torso. Yeah! Just like that!" she directed. Leo followed her directions to a tee, bouncing ever so slightly, to keep the baby calm and relaxed. Emma watched, mystified by the sight. She was shaken out of her reverie by an unfamiliar voice, gravelly and strained with disuse.

"What are you going to name him?" Leo asked quietly, so quiet that Emma almost didn't hear him. Her eyes widened at the revelation that he was actually talking, to her of all people. The boy that hadn't spoken in the eight years that he had walked the earth, was talking to her, Emma Ruth Swan.

"Uh, I don't really know," she said weakly, looking at the boy in a whole new light. Leo looked back at her, wearing the same expression he wore all the time.

"Yes you do. You're lying," he stated nonchalantly, his voice rising slightly in volume as he gained confidence. A fresh wave of surprise washed over the girl because, come on, she was the only person who could do that.

"Uh, I think I'm gonna name him Liam. Liam Henry Swan," she pronounced. A new sound came out of Leo's mouth, something akin to a chuckle. "What? You don't like it?" Emma asked, slightly embarrassed.

"No, it's not that," Leo claimed. "It's fitting actually."

"Then why'd you laugh?" Emma asked indignantly.

"I just can't believe that you haven't remembered yet. You always were the strongest of us all."


	25. Chapter 25

Regina watched with a sort of morbid fascination as the apple sitting on her desk began to wither and rot away. When the shriveled up thing started to smell, she angrily swept it onto the floor, and stormed towards the door, grabbing her jacket and her purse along the way. As she waited impatiently for the elevator, her thoughts wandered, and she did not like where they went.

"Oh dear God!" she shouted, turning towards the stairs. She went as fast as her black pumps would allow, blowing out the door, and down the street, towards Mr. Gold's pawn shop.

"GOLD!" she yelled as the door slammed shut behind her. Her breathing grew frantic as the worst possibilities of what could have caused the apple to rot flooded her brain. "RUMPLESTITLESKIN!"

"No need to shout dearie," the imp's voice floated across the room, making her more uneasy than she already was. She pivoted towards the man, and if looks could kill, he would've been dead in an instant. He only smirked at her anger.

"What seems to be the problem?" he inquired. Her brown eyes tracked his every move, her muscled coiled like a gazelle ready to flee at the drop of a hat. She was nervous, extremely. Gold chuckled.

"Well? I'm waiting. Don't have all day," he stated, busying himself behind the counter. She took a deep breath.

"The apple," she started.

"What about the apple?" Gold pondered.

"It—it rotted right in front of me, just shriveled up and withered away right there on my desk," Regina said rather timidly, almost like she was afraid of what the man would say next.

"Tsk tsk, I told you girl, you left too many loose ends," he tutted.

"I took care of the captain! Sidney left him lying in the street!" she cried. Rumple only tutted his tongue again.

"You just don't understand, do you," he leaned forward, across the glass counter. "You will never win dearie. That family will fight you until their last breath, and if that time comes, God forbid, I'll take up the sword. And that dearie, is a fight you cannot, will not, win. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."

_The Enchanted Forest, a long time ago._

_ "Belle!" the monstrous looking man shouted desperately, clawing at the portal, as he tried to reach the girl who was hanging on for dear life. _ _The Evil Queen's cackle could be heard above his desperate cries, and the swirling wind created by the green vortex beneath him. _

_ The beautiful girl shook her head at him, tears sliding down her cheeks._

_ "You have to let me go Rumple," she mouthed at him, for her voice could not be heard over the roar of the portal._

_ "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "I can't." The girl looked at him, the beauty of her eyes, filled with so much love, distilled by the heavy sadness that threatened to overtake her._

_ "You have to," and as her mouth formed the words, she released her grasp on the edge, and then she was falling, and then, before he could even blink, she was gone. _

_ "Where did you send her," he growled, turning to face the woman._

_ "Oh Rumplestitleskin, don't be mad. I didn't know you couldn't pull someone out of a portal with magic!" Regina pouted. Rumple's eyes burned with hatred, and tears threatened to spill over._

_ "I'll ask you again. Where. Did. You. Send. Her." he hissed menacingly, disappearing from where he was standing, and appearing an inch in front of her, holding a dagger to her throat. The witch only cackled louder._

_ "The land without magic, _dearie_." _

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEK

"What do you mean I don't remember?" Emma asked the boy. Leo sighed, and shook his head.

"Home, the curse, any of it. You haven't been having strange dreams or anything?" Leo asked, his tone hopeful. Emma remembered the nightmares she'd been having, about Killian.

"Uh, no," she responded, her voice breaking. Leo sighed again exasperatedly.

"You've always been a terrible liar. I don't even need to use my super power to tell," he responded.

"Yea," Emma started. "About that. How can we both do that?"

"I guess that's a good place to start," Leo said. Emma gestured for him to continue.

"It's genetic," he said simply, knowing what her response would be. When he felt her emotions ramp up, he closed his eyes, and concentrated, and soon, they were at a normal level again.

"What—what do you mean it's genetic," she stuttered. "And why am I so calm about this? What the hell—I mean heck, is going on here Leo?"

"Emma, I know this is going to be really hard for you to comprehend right now, but you, Emma Ruth Swan, are the oldest child of Snow White, and King David, or James, that part is rather confusing. You have two younger brothers, and we can all do magic in some way, shape, or form. And we inherited the 'super power' as you like to call it from mom," Leo started to explain. Emma shook her head, because the poor kid was obviously delusional. She started to reach for her call button, but he reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Emma, I know you don't believe me, but you will," he promised.

"Kid, we aren't from fairy tale land," she tried.

"Yea I know, we are from the Enchanted Forest. A painting of our castle hangs in the hallway back at home," Leo responded. Emma remembered the feeling of déjà vu she had experienced looking at the beautiful painting, but quickly shut the thoughts down, the thoughts that the boy might be right.

"It's just a scene that Neal came up with Leo," Emma said, but even she wasn't so sure herself.

"He can paint the future Emma!" Leo exclaimed, slumping back against the pillow, and covering his face with his hands. It sounded weird coming out of his mouth, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense, and that frightened her to no end.

"Leo, you, me, Neal, we are just three people who got dealt a bad hand in life," she said.

"Don't tell me you aren't the least bit curious."

"Not at all."

"Liar."

"Fine!" Emma relented. "Tell me more about this Enchanted Forest."

"Well, the evil queen wanted to kill Snow White, but with help from her Prince Charming, who later became King David/James, she escaped, and together they defeated her, literally on your birthday. You, have two brothers. Neal, as I've already said, can paint the future. And I, kinda, I don't know, can influence people's emotions," he started explaining, eyeing a very baffled Emma.

"What can I do?" she interjected.

"You see, we are all products of true love, so we all have magic. You're the very first one, so you kind of get the whole package. You can move objects with your mind, poof from place to place, heal people, you even started a tornado in the dining hall once," Leo reminisced, his eyes misty, because God, did he miss his home, his family. Emma pretended not to notice the raw emotion on the boy's face, instead trying to make light of the situation.

"Why did I start a tornado?" she chuckled. Leo shook his head, and stretched out instead, taking up as little of the bed as possible, and tucked his arms under his pillow.

"You aren't ready for that," he stated matter of factly.

"Leo come on tell me," she tried. He rolled over to face his sister.

"Emma, you don't even believe this is real, you just think it's some story that I made up for attention or something. You are not ready to hear some of the stuff that you want to know. And I am not going to tell you, no matter how much you pester me, so please do us both a favor, and go to sleep. You're going to need a lot, dealing with a newborn," he reasoned, and she couldn't argue with him, because she couldn't see any flaws in his reasoning.

"Uh, goodnight Leo," Emma said awkwardly.

"Goodnight Emma," Leo sighed. See you tomorrow.

That night, she dreamed of castles and grand balls and a king with dark blonde hair and blue eyes, and a queen with skin as white as snow, and hair as black as ebony, and emerald eyes that matched her own. She dreamed of a man in a red vest, and a blonde haired, brown eyed boy, bouncing a black haired, blue eyed boy on his knee. She dreamed of running through gardens with a boy on crutches struggling to keep up with her, while a teenager, ten years her senior laughed at the sight. But she also dreamed of the crushing despair that came when the boy left, and the feel of a slap connecting with her face over and over, and how deep the words that were said cut. But he was always there, swooping in to save her from harm, over and over again. She dreamed of his limp, little body being carried into the gates of her castle, and the white light that emanated from his body when she laid her hands on it. And she dreamed of the one night that changed her life forever, and when Emma Swan woke up, she was different.

"You had the dreams didn't you," Leo smirked. Emma just looked at the boy in wonder, and when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out. Leo, seemingly reading her mind, plopped a heavy leather bound book down on her lap.

"You still aren't sure whether you believe or not. But you will, once you read this. And, it makes sense, for the first story my nephew hears to be the one about his mother and father."


End file.
